


Getting to I Do

by jdmusiclover



Series: By Land or Sea [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdmusiclover/pseuds/jdmusiclover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU.  Sequel to A Wish Your Heart Makes.  A series of mostly unrelated one-shots. Killian Jones has proposed to Emma Swan, and to his utter delight, she's accepted. Now all that remains to be seen is if they can survive the wedding-planning process. Lots of Captain Swan, a fair amount of Captain Cobra Swan and several dashes of general Charming family fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Elopment

Killian Jones stepped out of the library and softly shut the door behind him. Placing the book he'd just procured beneath one arm, he strode confidently through the main street of Storybrooke, whistling an old sailor's song under his breath.

Across the street, Granny stepped briskly from the diner, and Killian had to employ some fancy footwork to avoid bowling the old woman over.

"My apologies," he muttered with a debonair bow and his old lady killer smile. The grandmotherly woman smiled and patted his cheek.

"No harm done," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Killian could swear he saw a rosy blush spread over her features. He had that effect on women; there was no use denying it.

In years past, when he was the dashing, but dangerous Captain Hook, he'd had no qualms about accepting the offers of the comely lasses who had practically thrown themselves at him. But no more. For the past two glorious months…really for the past two years…he'd been pledged to the most beautiful, the most astonishing, the most passionate, the most spirited, the most  _perfect_  woman in the world. Emma Swan.

A grin draped his lips just thinking of his Swan. In little more than two months he would wed her. She would be his and he would be hers for the rest of their lives. Sometimes he still pinched himself, convinced it wasn't real. It  _couldn't_  be real. What had he ever done in his villainous pirate days to merit such heaven?

"Hey Killian!" came an adolescent voice to his right. Killian turned to find himself face to face with Emma's twelve-year-old son.

"Aye, lad?" Killian asked companionably as Henry fell into step beside him.

"What time are you gonna pick me up tomorrow?" the boy asked excitedly.

"You'd best speak to your grandfather about that mate," Killian said ruffling Henry's hair. "You know perfectly well your mother has yet to let me within ten yards of the steering wheel of a land vessel."

"Well, can you blame her?" Henry quipped. "The last time she tried to teach you to drive you nearly took out a whole street full of mailboxes."

Killian playfully bumped the boy's shoulder. "Be gone, you young scalawag. Go talk to your grandfather."

Henry grinned.

"And lad?" Killian said as the boy turned away.

"Yeah?"

"When you get to the station, ask your mother to come to the  _Jolly_  when she gets off work."

"What for?" Henry asked, head tilted to the side.

Killian grinned. "It's been some four hours since I've seen her. That's far too long."

Henry grimaced. "You two are going to get all mushy again, aren't you?"

"Aye, if I have anything to say about it."

"Eww!"

Killian ruffled the boy's hair once more. "Just wait, my lad. One day your head will be turned by a lovely lass and then you'll find 'mushiness' far more palatable."

Henry grinned, rolled his eyes, and then headed for the station.

Killian chanced a quick glance at the book he held in his right hand. "The Fundamentals of Baseball." Henry had begged Killian to come with him and Charming to something called baseball's opening day. From what Killian could gather, baseball involved a man hitting a small white ball with a long stick and then running around something called a diamond. He sincerely hoped this book could give him a few more insights. It would be rather bad form to be utterly ignorant in front of his soon-to-be stepson.

Moments later, Killian reached the docks and his second favorite lady, the  _Jolly Roger_  came into view. Ah. She was a beauty, and he enjoyed living on her, but he couldn't wait until he and Emma could set up house in a real home.

Killian climbed below decks, determined to put Emma from his mind for a few hours. There was a task before him. He must learn all about this "baseball" or die in the attempt!

But putting Emma from his mind proved to be quite the impossible task. The moment he opened the door to his cabin, he found the lady herself agitatedly pacing its confines. Killian softly closed the door and then turned back toward her.

"Emma, love," he said gently, "is aught the matter?"

She looked up at him, a frown marring her beautiful features.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh, "I guess there is."

"Well," he said when it seemed she wasn't going to continue. "Will you tell me what's troubling you or must I guess?"

She stopped and gave him a long look. "Killian," she said, "this simply isn't going to work. I can't do this whole wedding thing."

Killian felt as though the lass had dumped a bucket of icy water over his head. Surely she hadn't said what he thought she said.

"Emma," he said stepping up to her and putting his hands…real and artificial…on her upper arms, "what are you saying love? Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?"

She gave him  _the look_. The one that called him three kinds of idiot. "Don't be stupid, Killian," she said irritably. "You're my true love; of course I'm not having second thoughts about marrying you."

He breathed an inner sigh of relief. "Then what precisely are you saying."

She let out a noisy breath. "I'm saying I can't do this," she gestured vaguely toward the window. "The whole big wedding thing. The whole town wants in on it. Everybody's trying to help us. Everyone has advice. Everyone thinks their way is the only way. If they don't back off and stop 'helping' me so much, I swear I'm going to go all evil queen on everyone!"

Killian laughed and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She remained stiff for a fraction of a second, and then returned the hug with fervor.

"Let's skip the wedding, Killian," she murmured into his neck. "Let's elope. We can sail your ship out of the bay this minute. Go to New York. I've got enough buddies in the justice department that I can find a justice of the peace to marry us. Then we can get a room at a nice hotel and not leave for a week."

Killian smiled against her hair. "As much as I relish the thought of spending a solid week in bed with you, lass, I'm afraid it's quite impossible."

She pulled away slightly. "Why?"

"Emma," he said, cupping her face in his good hand. "For the first time since Liam died I truly feel like I have a family here. And you! Your parents love you. You're the savior. The  _whole town_  loves you. Lass, your parents missed out on so much of your life. It would hurt them terribly to be excluded from the most important day of your life."

She looked into his eyes for several moments, and then sighed. "Yeah," she said, "I know. I'll just have to find a way to stick around and face the music."

Killian laughed again. "Just keep in mind, love. The wedding is but one day. When it's at an end we will have our whole lifetimes together—without the interfering town."

Emma brought her hand up so it covered his. "You're good for me, you know that?"

"Aye," he said before claiming her lips.


	2. Family Tree

Killian watched as Emma pushed a button and turned off her phone. Sighing, she curled up next to him on the sofa and laid her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, brushed a quick kiss on the top of her head, and let the warm contentment of his life wash over him.

"Bad news, love?" he asked, idly caressing her arm.

"Just work stuff," she said, shrugging slightly. "That was the oldest Cochon brother yet again."

"The lads having more trouble?" Killian asked. He knew Emma and her father had been dealing with the Cochon brothers' complaints of destruction of property for the past few weeks. It seems the two younger brothers' houses had been destroyed—blown away as it were. The men blamed the incident on one Mr. Loup, with whom they'd had a long-standing feud.

"Nothing new," Emma said, reaching up to lace her fingers with his. "Hamlet Cochon—that's the oldest brother, you know—is just convinced that Loup is coming after him next. He wants us to watch his house tonight."

"This Loup seems to be a right nasty blighter."

"Yeah, a regular big bad wolf," Emma agreed, moving slightly away from him. "It looks like I'm going to have to bail on dinner tonight. I guess a stake-out is on the menu for me."

"Would you like some company on your surveillance mission, love?"

"If you're the company, I'd love it," she said with a slight frown, "But unfortunately with David and Mary Margaret away on their second honeymoon, I need someone to stay with Henry; I might be gone most of the night."

He smiled at her. "I'd be glad to stay with him."

"Would you?" She asked, her green eyes lighting up with surprise and pleasure. When would the lass cease to be surprised anytime he offered to assist her? Had she not yet come to realize there was nothing in all the realms he wouldn't do for her?

"Aye," he said, his smile crinkling the corner of his eyes. "Emma, you need not even ask when it comes to the lad. He'll be my son in a scant few months. Besides, though you will not be home for dinner, I'm still determined to unlock the secrets to preparing a delectable pizza."

Emma looked at him for another moment suspended in time, her eyes darting back and forth between his own, and then she launched herself at him. Their lips met in a haze of love and passion. Killian groaned deep in his throat and pulled her closer, hands roaming over her back.

Emma pulled away for a scant second, trying to catch her breath, before surging forward once more. Killian fell back across the couch, taking her with him. The sound of the apartment door opening barely registered, so caught up were they in the moment.

"Eww! Mom, Killian," Henry said, his face twisted in disgust, "do you really have to do that  _all the time_? It's disgusting!"

Emma sat up and ran a hand through here hair. "Sorry, Kid, but you'll have to get used to it," she said with a grin. "After all we just went through with Morgana and the Wicked Witch, I plan to spend as much time as I can showing Killian just how much I love him before the next big bad villain shows up to mess up our lives."

Henry rolled his eyes and dropped his book bag next to the door. "Well could you at least keep the making out to a minimum when I'm around? You have no idea how gross it is to see your parents like that!"

Killian grinned, warmth spreading from his heart to every part of his being. This was what it was to be part of a family. Just a mundane Tuesday afternoon with his future wife and son.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 _Click_. Killian looked up from the pungent onion he was slicing to find himself face to face with Henry. A very mischievous looking Henry holding a small, rectangular device aloft before him.

"And what precisely is that, my lad?" He asked, turning his attention back to the onion.

"Oh, come on Killian!" Henry said sitting on one of the barstools and watching as his soon-to-be stepfather continued to make preparations for dinner. "You've been in Storybrooke for four months and you still don't know what an iPhone is?"

Killian glanced up, eyes streaming. This onion was  _strong!_  "I've had occasion to see the devices around. I wondered precisely why it clicked at me…and why the event put such a devilish grin on your face."

The lad tapped his phone a few times and then ambled to Killian's side of the bar. "See for yourself," laughter dripped from every syllable.

Killian looked at his own image on the small screen and winced. He and Henry had determined to try their hands at making pizza for dinner. Killian had commandeered one of the Lady Snow's aprons and set his hand at combining ingredients to make the dough. It had taken him some time to learn the secret to properly using an electric mixer, and in the process had gotten a fair amount of flour on his person. He'd had a similar battle with the aluminum can of pizza sauce. And then he had begun cutting the onion. Killian had reattached his hook, finding it useful in holding the vegetables steady for chopping. It was a good thing too. His eyes had begun to water after the first cut, and by the time he'd made it halfway through, he could barely see through the tears.

And that was the precise image Henry caught—frilly, tomato sauce stained apron, face smudged with flour, red nose, leaking eyes and everything.

"And what precisely do you intend to do with that photograph, mate?" Killian asked with a grimace.

"Well," Henry said with a wicked glint in his eye, "I sent it to my mom."

Killian groaned. Swan would never let him live it down. Shaking his head, he went back to his dinner preparations.

"And other than ensuring that I am thoroughly embarrassed, what are your plans for the evening, lad?"

There was a sudden, silence in the small kitchen. Killian looked up to find Henry looking down, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"Mate?"

"I…um," the boy stammered, "I was planning to do some homework."

Hmm…he'd wager the  _Jolly_  there was more to the story than that.

Killian spread the pizza dough with a generous layer of sauce and sprinkled on some cheese. "It's been some centuries since I attended school, I must admit, but I can't recall homework eliciting that reaction."

Henry scratched behind his ear, and Killian recognized his own nervous habit. "Well," he said in a falsely casual voice, "the Blue Fairy gave us this project. We're supposed to make our family trees and….well….I asked Grace to come over so we could work on our projects together."

Killian turned away to hide his grin. He added pepperoni, peppers and the blasted onions, and then slid the pan into the hot oven.

"Grace," Killian said, striving to match Henry's casual tone. "If I'm not mistaken that's the lass you fancy."

Henry gave him an embarrassed grin. "Yeah, I guess so."

"And does she fancy you as well?"

"I don't know," Henry sighed in obvious frustration. "Killian, how do you even  _know_  if a girl likes you? I just don't understand them!"

Killian walked over and clapped a companionable arm around the lad's shoulders. "That, my lad, is a mystery even three hundred years of life experience has failed to enlighten me about. Women are an exquisite puzzle that men spend a lifetime trying to decipher."

"Great!" Henry said, burying his flaming face in his arms.

"Your lady accepted your request tonight, did she not?" Killian asked.

"Well, yeah," Henry said looking up. "I asked her to come over and she got all embarrassed, but then she said yes. Then she went back over to her friends, and they all started giggling."

Killian grinned again. "Ah, yes," he said, "I think we can safely say that your lass is more than a little smitten."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Welcome, my lady," Killian said, bowing gallantly as he opened the door to the young brunette who knocked shyly. Grace blushed and stammered before rushing forward toward Henry who awaited her in the living room.

Killian returned to the kitchen where he was attempting to put Snow's kitchen to rights. He laughed to himself. Who would have ever believed the dashing Captain Hook would one day find himself playing chaperone to a pair of twelve year olds?

Henry and his lady spread their study materials on the coffee table and set to work. Moments later the young Romeo stepped purposely into the kitchen.

"Killian!" he said in an insistent whisper.

"Aye?"

"Would you stop being so…well,  _that_  all the time?" the lad gestured vaguely to his person.

"So,  _what_ , precisely, Henry?"

"You know," Henry said uncomfortably. His voice lowered even more. "Grace thinks you're  _hot_!"

Killian frowned in confusion. "On the contrary. I'm quite comfortable."

Henry slapped his forehead and shook his head. "Sometime I forget you're not from here. 'Hot' means, you know, handsome, good looking, sexy."

"Ah," Killian said grinning devilishly, "I see. Never fear, lad. I'm some three hundred years too old for the lass."

"That won't stop her from drooling over you!" Henry scowled.

"Very well," Killian said, grin still in place, "I give you my word. I shall do all in my power to…er…minimize my 'hotness'."

Henry gave him one last look and then returned to the lass. A moment later, Killian heard the two children discussing their school project.

"So, I don't even know how to start," Henry said in frustration. "I have more family than I know what to do with."

"Well," Grace said, "why don't you start with your parents, then you can move out from there."

"Ok," Henry said, tugging out a large sheet of paper. "Let's see. My dad is Neal Cassidy…or should I call him Baelfire?"

"Maybe you should put both names," Grace suggested. "You can write the Storybrooke name in Purple and the Enchanted Forest name in Green."

"Yeah," Henry said, "that could work." Killian grinned again. The lass could probably suggest Henry decorate his paper with pink hearts and flowers and the boy would think it a brilliant idea.

"And then my mom is Emma Swan," Henry said. "And my other mom is Regina Mills…the Evil Queen. And of course Killian will be my dad as soon as he marries mom."

Henry continued on with his father's family. "My grandpa is Mr. Gold…Rumplestiltskin. And my grandma was…was…Killian, do you know what my grandma's name was?"

"Milah," Killian croaked out of a suddenly tight throat. The pain was swift and unexpected. He supposed the ache of losing her…of failing to protect her from the Crocodile would never completely disappear. But it had faded significantly since he'd met and fallen in love with Emma. As the weeks passed, he dreamt far less of losing Milah, and far more of gaining Emma.

Henry quickly completed his father's side of the family tree, but the real difficulty didn't start until he tried to trace Emma's lineage.

"So my mom's parents are David and Mary Margaret, or Snow White and Prince Charming. Snow's parents were King Leopold and Queen Eva….but then Eva died, and Leopold married Regina."

"Wait," Grace said with a staying motion of her hand, "but isn't Regina  _your_  mom?"

"Well," Henry said, "yeah."

"But she's your grandma's mom too?"

"I guess so."

"That would make your grandma and grandpa your sister and brother in law."

Henry puzzled over that for a moment, frown of concentration in place. "Wait a second! If my grandma is my sister, that would make my mom…my birth mom…my…what?"

Grace consulted the assignment sheet they'd been given. "She'd be your niece."

"Woah!" Henry said. "That means that when my grandma has her baby, it will be…both my niece or nephew… _and_  my aunt or uncle!"

"And if your mom has another baby someday," Grace continued. Killian's mind spun off in a haze of crimson colored dreams at the very thought of creating a new life with Emma…so much so, that he nearly missed the rest of the lass's sentence. "That baby would be both your brother or sister  _and_  your great niece or great nephew."

Henry sighed theatrically. "This is starting to make my head hurt!"

Killian judged it best not to bring up the complication his relationship with Milah could have become had he actually had the occasion to marry his first love!

Henry and Grace worked steadily for an hour, before putting their assignments aside and settling for playing video games.

"Well, was your study session successful?" Killian asked an hour later after Jefferson arrived to collect his daughter.

"I had fun," Henry said, grinning. "Hanging out with girls can be fun."

"Aye lad," Killian said, ruffling the boy's hair. "And it only gets more fun the older you get."

"In that case, since you're like 400," Henry quipped, "you ought to be ecstatic whenever you spend time with my mom."

"Hey!" Killian said, shoving Henry playfully, "I'll have no laughing at the expense of my age young lad!"

Henry laughed until Killian launched a pillow at him. A raucous battle ensued in which Emma might have wondered which of her guys was the man and which the boy. In the end, the battle ended in a truce when Killian's pillow connected with Henry's half-empty drinking glass on the coffee table. The tumbler crashed to its side, soaking, and completely ruining Henry's family tree.

"My apologies lad," Killian said remorsefully. "All that work…destroyed."

Henry shrugged, gingerly picking up the sopping paper. "I was going to have to redo it anyway. With all those lines connecting all those people to each other in so many different ways, it would be a miracle if the Blue Fairy could even read it!"

"I'm relieved you're taking it so well, lad," Killian said.

Henry waved the paper back and forth several times, apparently trying to dry it. "I've got more relatives than I know what to do with. It certainly was easier when I was in New York and it was just me and my mom."

Killian eyed the boy. "Do you miss it? Your old life in New York?"

Henry thought for a moment and then shook his head. "Nah. Not really. It might have been simpler…but it was kind of boring…and lonely."

Killian nodded, thinking the adjectives apt descriptions of his life before Emma Swan came into it. "Well, mate," he said finally, "I think it's safe to say neither of us need ever worry about being bored or lonely again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Whew! No wonder Henry was getting a headache. I got a headache just trying to make all the family tree connections and I only went as far back as Regina!
> 
> -In case you were wondering about Emma's stakeout at the Cochon brothers' house, cochon is the French word for pig. Loup is the French word for wolf. (I took French in high school and college, so it's my foreign language of choice.) Of course any similarities you might see between a certain children's story about pigs, a wolf, and huffing and puffing and blowing houses down is purely coincidental. ;-p
> 
> -Up next: The Talk—pt. 1. Mary Margaret is feeling all kinds of guilt about all the "mom" stuff she never did with Emma, so she decides to make up for it by heading for the most awkward mother daughter moment possible. She takes Emma to lunch and endeavors to have "the talk" with her—in which she attempts to explain the more…um…intimate aspects of marital love. To Emma's utter embarrassment, Mary Margaret has apparently blocked out the fact that her daughter is a 30 year old woman…with a son, and she probably has a pretty good idea how he came into existence.


	3. The Talk--pt. 1

It was a beautiful evening. The sun sank gracefully toward the horizon painting the sky—and the water below it—in vibrant pinks and purples and oranges. But Emma didn't see any of it as she boarded the  _Jolly Roger_  and headed purposefully below decks. It would be sometime before she managed to purge the memory of the last few hours from her mind.

She found Killian in the captain's quarters. He sat at his desk, a large book open before him. So intent was he in his reading that he didn't hear her until she'd walked in and shut the door—more forcefully than she'd intended.

Killian yelped, jumped to his feet and spun to face her. "Swan!" he said finally, "you startled me well nigh to death!"

She walked toward him, a grimace on her face. "Sorry."

He looked intently at her.

"I need rum," she said, raiding the cabinet where she knew he kept the precious liquid. "Not just  _some_  rum.  _All_  the rum you have."

Killian sauntered over and leaned a hip against the cabinet, a smile,  _an infuriating smile_  plastered across his face. "So I take it dinner didn't go well, love?"

Emma gave him an exasperated look. "Killian, let me tell you," she said, pulling the stopper from his bottle, taking a long pull, and then handing it back to him, "If my mom, my dad, or any member of my crazy messed up family ever asks you to dinner so that the two of you can 'have a talk', run as fast as you can!"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_The night before_

Snow sat up in bed, her hand moving to her slightly swollen stomach. She'd felt something, like the fluttering of a butterfly.

"Snow?" Charming asked, obviously startled by her sudden movement. "Is everything okay?"

"I think so," Snow said smiling down at her husband. "David, I think I just felt the baby kick!"

Charming sat up, hand moving to her stomach. "Are you sure?"

Snow covered Charming's hand with her own. Her mind went back to her last pregnancy. Though it had been thirty-one years ago she remembered it like it was yesterday—that moment when she first felt Emma move within her. It was the first moment the pregnancy had felt  _real_ to her. Oh, she'd suffered through months of maddening morning sickness, fatigue and weakness. She'd even fainted a time or two—driving Charming nearly to distraction, but it wasn't until she'd felt that little life within her that it really hit home that she was going to have a baby.

"Yeah," she said softly, leaning over to kiss Charming. "Now that I know what it feels like, there's no missing those little kicks. Besides. I just reached the sixteenth week. You know all the books say the baby starts kicking sometime between the sixteenth and twenty-second week of pregnancy."

Charming laughed. "You and your pregnancy books! I bet if it came down to a contest between your books and Dr. Whale, you'd pick the books."

"Well," Snow said with a grimace, "you've got to admit it's a little…awkward with Dr. Whale. You know…with our history and everything."

Charming groaned. "You had to bring that up? I thought we agreed to forget about what happened when we were cursed."

Snow playfully swatted his arm. "Believe me, I want to forget it as much as you do. Who would want a Dr. Whale when she has Prince Charming?"

Charming leaned over and kissed her, deeply, passionately, thoroughly. "And don't you forget it, princess!"

Snow giggled, returning the kiss for good measure. The couple settled back together once again. Snow reveled in her husband's strong arms as they held her tight. Slowly, the smile slid from her face, and she sighed.

"What's wrong?" Charming asked, idly caressing her stomach. Snow shifted in his arms until she was facing him.

"Do you ever worry about it?" She asked.

"About what?"

"Whether we can do this. You know, be parents."

David brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. "Snow, you're going to be an amazing mother. This is the luckiest baby in the world."

Snow pecked him softly on the lips. "Not as lucky as he or she will be to have you for a father."

"Well, there you go," Charming said with a teasing smile, "We have nothing to worry about, we've already determined Baby Charming #2 is going to be blessed beyond any baby in Storybrooke."

Snow turned so she was laying on her back. "It's just…" she said slowly. "You know. We missed out on  _everything_  with Emma.  _Everything._  Not just the cute little baby "firsts." We even missed out on the boring, everyday moments, the adolescent angst, the teenage fights, the awkward mother-daughter conversations. Now she's a grown woman with a life of her own. She's about to get married, and we missed it all!"

Charming held her tighter, kissing her neck. "I know, honey. It tears at me too."

"Am I a terrible mom?" Snow continued. "I feel like I should have had at least  _one_  serious mother-daughter conversation with Emma before she marries Killian and goes on to the next phase of her life."

"You're not a terrible mom," Charming said firmly. "The curse ripped so much of Emma's life from us, but we can't blame ourselves for that. And as far as a mother-daughter talk is concerned, you've still got a couple months until Emma gets married. You still have plenty of time to fit in one of those awkward, thoroughly embarrassing, scar-you-for-life kind of conversations."

She laughed, and swatted at him. "You're right. There's nothing that says I have to miss out on all the mother-daughter moments. I'll take Emma out to dinner after her shift at the station tomorrow!"

"Good," Charming said on a yawn. "Now get some sleep. That baby of mine needs his rest."

"Really?" she quipped, "because our baby told me that it would be a lot easier for  _her_ to get her rest if her daddy would stop talking."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_The next evening_

Emma stepped into Granny's and scanned the diner. Mary Margaret sat alone in the booth that Emma had privately dubbed the "Charming booth." It sat next to the window, midway between the door and the back wall. Mary Margaret sat, absently sipping at a glass of water as she stared out the window.

Emma slid into the booth across from her mother and flashed her a quick smile.

"How was work today, Honey?" Mary Margaret asked.

Emma reached for a menu, and then looked up at her mom. "Boring," she finally said, "nothing but paperwork all day. I was about to go stir crazy. Thanks for rescuing me from that."

"Glad to help," Mary Margaret said with a smile. "But you've got to admit. It's kind of nice to have a boring day after dark curses, and Neverland."

"…and Morgana Le Fay, and the freaking Wicked Witch of the West," Emma continued. "It's been what? Four months since a villain showed up to screw us all over."

"Yeah, something like that," Mary Margaret said absently.

"Something wrong?" Emma asked. Looking more closely, Mary Margaret looked uncomfortable…downright nervous. Surely there was nothing wrong with her dad…or the baby, was there?

"Yeah," Mary Margaret said with a forced smile. "It's just that we never get to talk, you know, mother to daughter."

Emma took a sip of the iced tea Ruby had just placed before her. "Well, we're having a mother-daughter conversation now."

Mary Margaret took a deep breath. What was going on with her? Even being a teenager in the slammer, she didn't remember the pregnancy hormones making her this crazy!

"So," Mary Margaret said brightly, "how are things with you and Killian?"

"Um.." Emma said, "pretty much the same as they were last night when he came over and had dinner with all of us. I mean, we officially have true love, what could go wrong?"

"That's good," Mary Margaret said, "I just thought you might have some…questions."

"About Killian?" Emma asked. "No offense, Mary Margaret, but you've never really been the most objective observer when it comes to my fiancé."

"Oh, come on, Emma," Mary Margaret said, playing with her straw wrapper, "you know I like Killian."

" _Now_  you do," Emma said with a smile, "but it wasn't too long ago, you were practically shoving me at Neal."

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Your father helped me get a more…balanced…perspective on that."

Emma laughed. Her dad and her husband-to-be were nearly inseparable. "Yeah. Sometimes I almost get jealous about how much time Killian spends with David."

"You and me both," Mary Margaret said with a laugh.

Ruby returned with a salad for Emma and a big plate of the dinner special—lasagna for Mary Margaret. Emma generously poured dressing over the crisp greens, grilled chicken, and assorted vegetables. Looking up, she saw that same strange,  _nervous_  look on her mother's face.

"Seriously, mom," she said, "what's going on with you today?"

"Nothing, sweetie," Mary Margaret said, coloring slightly. "I was just wondering if…well…if you have any questions…you know…about what to expect? When you're married, I mean."

"Um…In what respect?" Emma asked taking a cautious bite of her salad.

"Well, it's just….well…um…I mean…your father told me he talked to Killian and…well, he said Killian promised to be a gentleman."

"Yeah," Emma said with a smile, remembering a certain conversation at the top of a beanstalk. That was where it all began, if she were totally honest with herself. "He's always a gentleman."

"So, it's true, then?" Mary Margaret said. "The two of you haven't…um…been together?"

Emma frowned. "In what way exactly?"

"You know what I mean," Mary Margaret said, her cheeks flaming, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You haven't slept with him?"

"Mom!"

"Sorry!" Mary Margaret said, "it's just…well, I want you to know what to expect."

"Please tell me we're not talking about this!"

"Love is a beautiful and magical thing," Mary Margaret said, taking a bite of her dinner. "The first time your father and I were together…it was like sparks that caught and flared up into a raging wildfire. I never even imagined a man could be so…passionate, yet so tender."

Emma sighed dropped her head into her hands. "Apparently we are talking about this. You are aware that I have a son. You know, your grandson, Henry?"

"Well, yeah…"

"So, you realize that I have a certain amount of…um…experience?"

"But Emma," Mary Margaret said earnestly. "You've never made love with your true love, have you?"

"Well, no," Emma admitted. Killian was an old fashioned gentleman where such things were concerned. He'd asked her to wait until they were "well and truly wed." He'd gone on to promise her with no end of innuendo just how thoroughly he'd make it up to her during their honeymoon.

"True love changes everything," Mary Margaret said dreamily. "Suddenly it's so much more than kisses and caresses and sweat and breathless panting."

_Make it stop! Please, please make it stop!_

"How's everything tasting today?" Granny asked, stopping by the table. Emma wanted to jump up and hug her. She had never in her life been happier to be interrupted.

"The food's great, Granny," Emma said.

"Are you sure?" Granny asked, looking pointedly at Emma's nearly full plate.

"Yeah," Emma said with a grimace. "I guess I just don't have much of an appetite today."  _Especially after hearing my mom talk about how passionate and tender my dad is in bed!_

"Why don't you join us?" Mary Margaret asked, patting the seat next to her.

"Don't mind if I do," Granny said with a sigh. "It's been one of those days. So are you having a nice little chat?"

"Um…it's been informative," Emma said, taking a long drink of her iced tea and fervently wishing it was something stronger.

Granny turned toward Mary Margaret. "See, your majesty, I told you you should have taken a different approach!"

_Um…what?_

"See, Emma," Granny said, turning back toward her. "Your mom is always too quick to beat around the bush, wants to avoid messy topics."

_Talking about kisses and caresses and sweat and panting is "beating around the bush?"_

"I was doing just fine!" Mary Margaret protested.

"You really want to learn something?" Granny asked conspiratorially. "I can tell you a thing or two."

_Please don't!_

"Um…that's really not necessary," Emma stammered, "I mean I've known about the facts of life for a few years now."

"No trouble at all!" Granny said, apparently completely impervious to the embarrassment that hung over the booth like a heavy fog. "In fact. When I think back to the first time with my Herb….whoa! That man just exuded sex."

Ruby walked by in her impossibly tiny dress. "Need anything?"

_A hole that I can crawl into and die?_

"I think we're good, Ruby," Emma said.

"So," the waitress persisted. "Whatcha talking about?"

"Sex, apparently," Emma drawled.

Ruby shoved her over and sat in the booth beside her. "I'm in."

"Really?" Emma asked in a voice heavily laced with sarcasm, "Because your granny was just about to tell us all about her first time with your grandfather."

"I'm out," Ruby shot out of her seat and ran to the kitchen like the very devil was at her heels.

"Where was I?" Granny asked. "Oh yeah. Herb kissing every inch of skin as he exposed it."

This was going to be the longest evening of her life!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_Present day, captain's quarters of the Jolly Roger_

"So then, after Granny told me about her wedding night in ten times more detail than I would ever in my life want to hear, she and my mom started talking about…techniques."

Emma took another long swig of Killian's rum. Somewhere in the middle of her explanation they'd ended up on his loveseat, his arm draped over her shoulders, her head on his shoulder.

"I think I'm scarred for life."

He chuckled. "That sounds like quite the evening, love."

Emma sighed. "It was terrible."

Killian put a gentle finger under her chin, tilting her face up until he could capture her lips with his own. The kiss was slow and gentle. Emma returned the kiss with abandon. Never before had she needed the rush of Killian's love, like right now. Maybe if he just never stopped kissing her, she could forget dinner ever happened.

After long minutes, Killian dragged his lips from her mouth, and trailed small kisses across her jaw, settling just below her ear.

"Trust me lass?" He whispered in a voice that sent a delicious shiver through her.

"Always."

"I promise you," he said, smiling against her neck, "come the night of our nuptials, when I make you mine, I'll make you forget every word Granny and the Lady Snow said to you tonight."

"I'll hold you to that, pirate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Up next: The dress…in which every woman in town seems to have an opinion about the dress Emma should wear….and the only formal wear shop in town is still stuck in the 80s just like the rest of Storybrooke was for 28 years.


	4. The Dress

Emma took a sip of her hot cocoa, savoring the creamy chocolate, the slight bite of the cinnamon. Killian leaned over the booth they were sharing and swiped at her top lip.

"Bad form to wear your breakfast, darling," he said with a grin.

She playfully shoved at his arm, grinning back. "Why don't you come over here and kiss it off for me, pirate?"

Emma watched his eyes blaze at the suggestion, then he leaned back, never breaking that cocky swagger. "I fear it would be dangerous for my health, love."

"Yeah," she said, taking a bite of her pancake, "why is that?"

"We're due to be joined at any moment by your parents and your son," he said taking a sip of his coffee—black, of course. "Your father may be my mate, lass, but I doubt he'd take kindly to the sight of me—what was the phrase Henry used?—'making out' with his little girl right before him."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Maybe one day he'll realize that his 'little girl' is a grown woman and there's nothing wrong with her 'making out' with her fiancé any time she pleases."

"Wouldn't count on it love."

Neither would she. It did make her feel good in a strange way to have her parents care so much for her. She'd been alone all her life; she'd only had herself to depend on. It was nice to finally have a real family who loved her. But…her father seemed determined to fit every moment of protective fathering he'd missed out on during her crazy teenaged years into these last six weeks before she became Killian's wife.

 _Killian's wife_. Emma allowed herself a small ecstatic sigh, feeling a bit like a teenager with her first crush. It was really happening! In little over a month she would marry him! She would never be alone again.

Opening her eyes, she found herself face to face with Killian's knowing grin. He leaned forward and dropped his voice conspiratorially. "That besotted sigh, that secret smile. It can only mean one thing."

"What's that"  
"You're thinking of me."

Emma rolled her eyes, unable to keep the grin from her face. "You wish, buddy," she said taking another sip of her cocoa. "It just so happens that it was this cocoa that brought me to bliss."

He leaned over even farther, and her breath caught. "Emma, love," he whispered.

Really, that intimate whisper shouldn't even be  _allowed_! "You're a terrible liar."

With that he closed the remaining distance and captured her lips. Emma's mind went blank. All that existed in the world was him, and them, and this feeling, this  _true love_  between them.

Someone cleared his throat. Emma reluctantly pulled away and looked up at her parents standing before their table. Mary Margaret wore a dreamy look, but, as Killian had predicted, David looked as though he wanted to strangle her pirate.

"We interrupting something?" David asked pointedly.

"Not at all, Dave," Killian said in a voice that could be called nothing but roguish. He smoothly got to his feet and slid into the booth next to her, making room for the Charmings. "I was merely enjoying a little  _dessert_  along with my breakfast."

David growled deep in his throat. "Careful, pirate! That's my daughter you're talking about. Remember, I gave you my blessing, I can always take it away."

"Good thing I'm a pirate, then," Killian said. "I'm well adept at taking what I want. Never let princes of the realm stop me before; don't intend to start now."

Emma reached over and deliberately laced her fingers with Killian's. "No need for you to take what's already yours," she said. "Seriously, though David, this 'scary dad trying to put the fear of God into his daughter's boyfriend' routine is getting old. I'm a thirty-year-old woman. If I want to kiss my fiancé over breakfast at the diner I will."

"She's right, you know, David," Mary Margaret said with a sentimental little smile. "They're in love. Can you blame them for wanting to show it?"

David sighed and then grinned. "Alright," he said, "I know when I'm beat."

"Good man," Killian said with a wink before leaning over to kiss her soundly.

"Are you guys kissing  _again_?" Henry asked as he and Regina stepped into the diner and headed their way.

"I must say, Miss Swan," Regina said, "Henry has a point. We're meeting here for breakfast. Don't make me lose my appetite before I even have a chance to order."

Emma looked up at Henry's other mother as she took a seat next to Mary Margaret. She looked…defeated. The last five months since returning from the Enchanted Forest had really grated on her.

"Don't worry, Madam Mayor," Killian said, draping an arm lightly over Emma's shoulders, "we don't wish to ruin anyone's appetite. We shall be circumspect."

"Doubt it," Regina grumbled raising a hand to hail Ruby.

Emma slid over in the booth, making room for Henry. "How was your week, kid?" After some trial and error, she and Regina had decided their best arrangement was to switch off weeks with Henry. It had become something of a tradition to make the trade off over Saturday morning breakfast at Granny's

Henry shot Regina a quick concerned look, and then pasted a falsely exuberant smile on his face. "It was great!"

Emma's frown deepened. Henry worried about his other mother; she knew he did. They'd talked about it many times after he'd returned from a week at Regina's house. Henry talked about her listlessness, her sadness. Emma wondered when Regina would get over this sadness, almost depression she was clearly feeling. Emma couldn't blame her. Having to leave Robin Hood and Roland back in the Enchanted Forest had to have been agonizing. Emma tried to imagine what it would have done to her if she'd been forced to leave Killian behind, and the thought was too terrible to consider. Pity welled up within her…pity she knew the mayor would not appreciate.

"So Mom," Henry said, taking a sip of the hot cocoa Ruby automatically brought him. "What's the plan for today?"

"The plan for you," Emma answered, "is to hang out with Killian and maybe your grandfather."

"Cool!" Henry said. "Hey Killian, can we go out sailing again? Can you teach me more about navigation?"

Killian reached over Emma to ruffle Henry's hair. "I see no reason we can't, lad."

"So what's your plan while we're out on the water," Henry asked turning back to Emma.

"We," Mary Margaret said, "have big plans today. We've got an appointment at 'The Fairy Godmother's Closet'. Today is the day we find your mom a wedding dress. There's not much time left, so we're not going to stop until we find  _the one_!"

Emma sighed. She'd been secretly dreading this day for weeks. The thought of spending all morning at a stuffy dress shop while pretty much all the women in town commented and made suggestions made her just about break out in hives.

"What fun," Regina said in a voice laced with sarcasm—sarcasm that Mary Margaret clearly either didn't notice or was ignoring.

"Why don't you come with us?" her mother gushed. "It'll be fun. We'll make a real girls day of it!"

Emma glanced at Regina, expecting snark. She didn't expect the brief moment of pain and longing that flashed across her face.

"It's okay," Emma started. "You don't have to…"

"Sure," Regina said finally. "After all, somebody has to protect Miss Swan from the monstrosities the ladies of this time will try to foist on her."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Monstrosities was right! Emma knew she was in trouble the moment she walked into "The Fairy Godmother's Closet." It was like stepping back in time—and not to a time with good fashion and beautiful clothing. She would swear she'd suddenly been transported back to the eighties. Posters in bright, neon colors and bold patterns vied with photographs of brides with poufy dresses—and even poufier bangs. Racks after racks after racks of dresses with huge puffed sleeves and tulle— _so much tulle!—_ covered the entire front of the store.

As Emma, Mary Margaret and Regina walked through the door, a bell began to stridently clang. A moment later, the fairy godmother herself walked toward them.  _Wait…the fairy godmother_? Hadn't she read in Henry's book that Rumplestiltskin had decimated her?

"Welcome ladies!" the fairy godmother gushed. "Welcome! Come with me through these doors. The rest of your party has already arrived!"

 _The rest of their party_? Just how many people had her mother invited to go dress shopping with them?

Most of the town, as it turned out. Emma walked through a gauzy curtain to find herself face to face with Granny, Ruby, Belle, Tinkerbell, Ashley and Ariel. Belle rushed forward to greet her with a warm hug, her large diamond ring glinting in the garish showroom light. Belle had been, if possible, even happier and more optimistic since her wedding to Gold two weeks before.

"Isn't this place great?" Belle asked, taking hold of Emma's hand and dragging her to a throne-like chair facing a wall of mirrors. "It's brand new; just opened last week!"

"So I guess they're going for the...um…retro look" Emma said.

"That's how everything around here starts out," Granny said, sitting back in her easy chair and knitting furiously at the blue baby afghan she was making. The minute Mary Margaret had begun to show, Granny had declared that she could feel it in her bones that the Charmings were having a boy.

"Everything starts out in eighties décor?" Emma asked.

"Well, yes, Miss Swan," Regina said taking a seat by herself and elegantly crossing her legs. "That's how the original curse worked. Storybrooke came into existence in the eighties and remained stuck in time for twenty-eight years until your arrival. Now…well, every new establishment follows suit."

 _Well that's…weird_.

"So, what made you decide to open a dress shop?" Mary Margaret asked the fairy godmother as she bustled into the room with an arm full of fluffy dresses.

"The fact that my curse was  _finally_ lifted," she said with a slight frown.

"You see," Belle said, "before I married Rumple, I insisted he make restitution for the people he harmed."

"That must have taken a while," Regina said under her breath.

"And one of the people he'd harmed was the fairy godmother," Belle continued. "He'd cursed her to a kind of limbo. When he brought her back here, she opened her dress shop!"

"Just in time for Hook and Emma to get married!" Tinkerbelle said with a theatrical sigh.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Ruby asked clapping her hands. "Let the dress shopping begin!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Ooh! Ah!" Ariel said, clapping a hand to her mouth. "This is the best one yet!"

Emma looked at herself in the massive mirror and grimaced. It shouldn't surprise her, really it shouldn't. What kind of dress would Ariel chose but mermaid style? And this dress was about as mermaid style as it could get. It was complete with an  _actual_  mermaid tail—with scales. The sad thing was Ariel was probably right. This probably  _was_  the best dress she'd tried on yet—and as long as they'd been in the store, she'd probably tried on ever dress in here!

"Whatever!" Ruby said, "my choice was clearly better!"

 _Um, yeah if I was a stripper_. The dress Ruby picked was really more of a very wide belt than an actual dress. It was so high cut—and low cut that if she were to move at all—well all the wedding guests would get quite the show.

"Killian would have liked it!" Ruby insisted.

But bad as Ruby's choice was, it didn't even hold a candle to Granny's.

"Look at you!" Granny said, setting down her knitting to admire the truly horrible dress. "Now that's what I call a bridal gown!"

"I look like a marshmallow threw up," Emma said. How was it even possible for puffed sleeves to be this big? And the skirt! There is no way she'd fit though any door in Storybrooke. Big didn't even begin to cover it. She was a satin and lace and tulle covered monster!

"Just wait, dear!" the fairy godmother said with excitement. "I have the  _perfect_ veil to complete the look! It's the perfectaccessory for Miss  _Swan_!"

And then the dress that couldn't possible get any worse…got worse. It looked as though two swans, their wings outstretched, had landed on her head. Their heads dipped together to form a horrible mockery of a heart that came to a point low on her forehead.

"Um…mom?" she asked Mary Margaret, silently begging her for help, "what do you think?"

Mary Margaret caressed her slightly distended belly. "Emma, honey," she said with a smile, "you'll look beautiful no matter what you wear."

_Not helping mom! Not helping at all!_

Finally, at long last, Regina got to her feet. "Enough of this! The merchandise in this store leaves a lot to be desired!"

_Thank you!_

"You'll have to help me, Miss Swan," Regina said. "My magic is strong, but I'm not exactly used to crafting wedding gowns."

"What do you need me to do?" Emma asked

"Think of the perfect dress," Regina said. She rolled her eyes and let out a long sigh, "and think of your  _pirate_. Let your  _love_ fill you until it bursts out of you in true love magic."

Emma closed her eyes. She was like any other girl. She used to dream of her wedding day. She used to read fairy tales—never believing they were  _true_ —and dream that one day  _her_ prince would come and sweep her away from the mess that was her life. She thought of the dress she wore in those dreams. A princess dress with a fitted, corset top, a full and flowing skirt, thick straps just off her shoulders. It was beautiful. She imagined her hair softly swept up, a gentle tiara settled gracefully on her head.

And then she thought of Killian. She saw the love and the wonder in his eyes. She imagined their wedding day, taking the vows that would bind them together forever. She felt the magic bubble up inside, felt it flow through her finger tips, felt it connect with Regina's magic. And then it stopped.

There was silence, absolute silence in the salon. Emma cautiously opened her eyes—and gasped. It was the dress! The very dress of her dreams gracing her slim form. It was beautiful!

"Oh, Emma!" Mary Margaret gasped wiping tears from her eyes. "You look like a princess."

This was it. Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles she'd found the dress!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Several hours later, Emma made her way to the  _Jolly Roger_. Killian stood on deck, looking out to sea, watching the waves lash against his precious ship. He turned as she walked up the gangplank and headed toward him. He looked at her with the look—the same one he'd worn in her dreams. His eyes filled with love and wonder and delight at the very sight of her.

"So love," he said, "was your mission successful."

Emma looped her arms around his neck and leaned up for a quick kiss.

"Absolutely."

"Might I get a glimpse of the dress that put such a glow of happiness on your lovely face?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked, latching onto his arm. "My mother would have a fit if she heard you ask such a thing. Don't you know it's bad luck for the groom to see the gown before the wedding?"

"Bad luck, ey?" he grinned, "then I must steer clear of this gown for sure."

"If you let me share your rum, I'll show you the pictures I took of the…um…not so perfect gowns."

He chuckled as he led her below decks. "I take it from your tone the losing dresses were bad."

"You have no idea!" Emma said. "I'll show you all of them…except Ruby's pick."

"And what precisely is so terrible about the wolf-girl's choice?"

Emma blushed scarlet. "Well, let's just say you  _might_  just see that much skin on the honeymoon."

Killian raised his eyebrow suggestively. "I think I might have to convince you to model this dress for me. Strictly for the purpose of showing me how truly terrible it is, of course."

Emma laughed and swatted at his arm. "In your dreams, Jones."

"Indeed, love," he said with a wicked grin, "I'm sure it will be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -So there you have it. Wedding dress shopping was a chore, but in the end, Emma found the dress of her dreams.
> 
> -I had fun googling photos of truly terrible eighties wedding dresses!
> 
> -By the way, I modeled Emma's dream dress after the one she wore in Charming's dream in the Rapunzel episode.
> 
> -Up next: The talk, pt. 2. This time it's Killian's turn to get "the talk" from Charming. Only this talk doesn't revolve around marital intimacy. Charming threatens Killian with all kinds of horrible-ness if he ever hurts Emma. The plan, of course, is to make this funny and fluffy, but I make no guarantees.


	5. The Talk--pt. 2

" _I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue, and it hey to the starboard heave ho!_

 _Look out lad a mermaid be waitin' for ye in mysterious fathoms below."_ Killian sang softly to himself as he lounged on the park bench attempting to kill time.

Killian looked up to the clock tower.  _8:07_. He sighed, running his remaining hand through his coal black hair. Emma was supposed to meet him for dinner at 6:00, but he'd yet to see the lass.

She'd been working long, grueling hours over the past week trying to take care of as much as she could before the wedding. She didn't wish to burden Charming any more than strictly necessary during the two weeks they would be on something she called a "honeymoon."

Apparently it was customary in this realm for newly married couples to take a vacation where they spend time relaxing alone together. Killian grinned to himself; this was one Land Without Magic custom with which he was heartily in support. His heart sped up at the very thought of quality alone time with his love…alone time where there was no longer anything standing between them and any display of affection they might like.

Killian shook his head. Best not to head down that avenue of thought. There were still five weeks before the wedding, after all.

What had he been pondering before his mind had taken such a tantalizing tangent? Ah yes, the honeymoon. Emma had informed him that he, as the adventurous worlds-traveler was to be entrusted with the task of planning the honeymoon. She had but two stipulations. Firstly, they must visit a location where there was absolutely no chance of being ambushed by an evil, wicked or malevolent villain. Secondly, she had insisted they not honeymoon at a place called Tallahassee. For some inexplicable reason, she had insisted visiting this "Tallahassee" on their honeymoon would simply be too weird.

Killian drummed his fingers on the arm of the park bench impatiently. He looked up at the clock again.  _8:23_. That was it. The lass wasn't going to work herself into an early grave; not on his watch. Getting to his feet, he strode purposely toward Granny's. He would procure a picnic. If Emma could not tear herself away from her desk to seek after dinner, dinner would simply have to come to her. Perhaps after they'd eaten, he could coax her to join him on the  _Jolly_  for a nightcap.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Emma wrote furiously, determined to get down every detail of the last…typically bizarre… call she'd responded to. David would not have to deal with the fallout of what happened out at Mrs. Farmer's ranch if she had anything to say about it.

You'd think she'd be used to the strange cases in this town by now, but this one just about took the cake. She'd gotten a call early this afternoon from a Mr. Souris Aveugles.  _Seriously, though, who has a name like that?_ Anyway, Mr. Aveugles insisted that Mrs. Farmer had chased him and his two brothers around her house with a carving knife. When she'd gone to investigate, Mrs. Farmer insisted that it was the Aveugles brothers who had been chasing  _her_ around the house. Her claim was that she'd wielded the knife purely in self-defense. Emma had been called in when Mrs. Farmer had caught up to Souris and relieved him of the rat-tail portion of his truly terrible mullet. She knew one thing; she'd never seen such a sight in her life!

Emma jumped slightly at the sound of the sheriff's station door opening. Looking up, she found herself face to face with Killian…Killian grinning devilishly and carrying a…was that a  _picnic_ basket?

"Be with you in a second," she said absently. "I just have to finish this report.

The basket plopped down squarely on top of her paperwork.

"Hook!" she growled in exasperation, getting to her feet and planting her hands firmly on her hips.

Grin still firmly in place, Killian leaned forward and kissed her soundly.

"Hook is it now, love?" he asked moving deftly out of the way of the hand she was trying to swat at him. "Aye, perhaps if I go back to my pirate ways, I'll get to spend a little time with the loveliest sheriff in all the realms."

Emma grinned in spite of herself. She was physically incapable of remaining exasperated with him when he behaved as playfully roguish as this.

"Is there anything you wanted, other than to distract me from my job?" she asked in a voice she tried…and failed…to make stern.

Killian grinned at her suggestively. "Oh, darling," he purred, "there are many, many things I want from you, all of which I intend to collect on our wedding night."

Emma felt her face flame. How was it that this man could make her, hardly a naïve school girl, blush like a far-too-innocent teenager?

"As it happens, love," Killian went on gesturing with his prosthetic to the basket on her desk, "a certain beautiful fiancée of mine promised to meet me for dinner more than two and a half hours ago. As you are the only fiancée I have, beautiful or otherwise, I must conclude you are the one guilty of standing me up."

Emma hit her forehead. "Oh, I forgot all about dinner!" she said. "I'm sorry Killian; I must have gotten caught up in all this craziness." She gestured to the half-completed forms beneath the picnic basket.

"'Tis no problem, Emma," he said, taking her arm and trying to guide her toward the door, "We'll just take our dinner now."

Emma pulled against his hand. "I can't Killian!" she said. "There's way too much to do here! I took the whole morning off to work on wedding stuff, and now things are crazy! Besides, I'm not even hungry."  
Just then, her traitor of a stomach growled as loudly as she'd ever heard it. He grinned, but then became serious, looking at her intently. He cupped her cheek with his good hand, gently rubbing the tender skin beneath her eye with a calloused thumb.

"Lass," he said gently, "you'll do the town no favors if you work yourself to death. Come away with me. Even the savior can afford the luxury of an evening spent with her true love."

Emma sighed. It was true, she was exhausted. She reached up and pecked him on the cheek. "Alright Killian. You talked me into. Lead on"

Two hours later Emma sat on the love seat in the captain's quarters, her head on Killian's shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around her.

"So then," she said around a yawn, "if you can believe it, Mary Margaret proposed that we make the theme of the wedding 'Whimsical Disney'! She wants the reception hall to be decorated in drawings and cut outs of various Disney characters."

Killian groaned.  _Probably thinking about his one experience with Disney movies back in New York_. "Please, love, tell me your mother does not intend to decorate with drawings of that simpering buffoon those in your world believe to be Captain Hook!"

"Afraid so," Emma said yawning again. "Don't worry. I absolutely put my foot down on the Disney idea."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Killian absently caressing her shoulder. It was so comfortable, so peaceful, so  _right_  here in his arms. Finally she sat up.

"It's getting late," she said on a sigh. "I really should get going."

"Must you, lass?"

She laid back against his shoulder once more. "I don't want to. Ironically enough, the only time I can manage to get away from all the wedding craziness is when I'm with you. I can't wait until the night I don't have to leave you."

"Neither can I, love," he said brushing a kiss against her hair. Emma fell silent, and moments later she was asleep.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Earlier that evening, Charming found Snow sitting at their kitchen table, intently studying a piece of paper filled to the brim with writing. Bending down, he gave her a quick kiss.

"What's that you're working on?" he asked.

"This?" Snow asked gesturing to the paper before her. "It's a list."

"Yeah," Charming said taking a seat across from his wife, "I can see that, but what is it a list  _of_?"

"It started out as a list of things we need to do to get ready for the wedding, but it kind of morphed into a list of things we, the parents, need to do for or with our daughter before her big day."

"You come up with some interesting ideas?" He asked, leaning over to look at the paper.

"Absolutely!" Snow said enthusiastically. "And as it turns out there's one item…#23 there…that's for you. I've been thinking; you probably should get on that one as soon as possible."

Charming peered at the list, scrolling down with his eyes until he saw #23.  _Have Charming give Killian 'the talk'_.

"Snow," he said, "you want me to give Killian 'the talk'? You've got to be kidding! I'm pretty sure he knows every detail there is to know about the birds and the bees. Given his penchant for innuendo, it'd probably be more appropriate for him to give  _me_  'the talk'."

Snow sighed in what could only be called pure exasperation. "Not  _that_  talk! I meant the 'you better treat my daughter right or I will kill you…slowly' talk!"

"Oh, that one," Charming said. "I'm pretty sure I can wait awhile on that particular talk. The pirate's been on his best behavior ever since we got back from the Enchanted Forest."

By morning, Charming had changed his tune. He paced the living room fretfully while Snow sat on the couch, her hand held protectively over their second child who slept peacefully in her womb.

"You'll wear a hole in the floorboards pacing like that," she commented. He stopped pacing for a moment and stared at her. The anger bubbled up again.

"I'll kill him!" he nearly shouted, "I'll strangle that no good, womanizing pirate with my bare hands!"

That morning he and Snow had awoken to utter silence in the loft. It was Henry's week at Regina's, but Emma should be around. The last few weeks she'd been up at the crack of dawn working feverishly, but not this morning. When Charming had climbed the stairs to check on her, he'd found her bed neatly made, several items of clothing scattered across it…the same items of clothing that had been there ever since Emma left the loft yesterday morning.

Charming had investigated of course. He'd called the sheriff's station. No answer. He then tried Granny's. Ruby answered and gave him an earful of juicy information. It seems Killian had picked up a picnic dinner the evening before and then headed to the station. Ruby saw Killian and Emma head to the  _Jolly Roger_  from whence they'd yet to emerge.

"Now David," Snow said slowly, "don't jump to conclusions. Like you said last night, Killian's been on his best behavior; maybe there's another explanation."

He gave her an incredulous look. "Now you're  _defending_  him?! Snow, that's our daughter. Our little girl!"

"I know that!" she snapped. "All I'm saying is that you'd be much better off to think things through rather than acting rashly."

"Oh, I intend to think things through! I intend to think things through very thoroughly while I head to town. I think you were right last night; it's way past time I have that talk with Hook."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Weak sunlight filtered through the partially closed blinds of the  _Jolly_. Killian shifted slightly on his tiny bed, trying not to disturb the woman who slept peacefully in his arms. He leaned forward, drinking in the lilac smell of her hair, tightened his arm around her waist, feeling the rough denim of her pants, the soft cotton shirt beneath his forearm.

This was bliss. This was how every morning should begin. Killian tilted his head, wincing at the stiffness in his neck. Well, there were some things he would change. For one, before their marriage, it was absolutely essential they get a  _much_  larger bed.

For another, in the ideal world, he would be waking with Emma in his arms after a night spent in far more satisfying activities than mere sleep.

After Emma had fallen asleep against his shoulder last night, Killian hadn't had the heart to wake her; the lass was sorely exhausted. So, careful to disturb her as little as possible, he'd carried her to his bed, removed her boots and socks, and tucked her in. Then, unable to deny himself the pleasure, he'd climbed in beside her and wrapped her in his arms. His heart had turned over as she nestled into his warmth, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Now, this morning he merely lay there, marveling yet again that this happiness had been given him. He was blessed indeed.

Emma stirred, yawning and stretching slightly. Suddenly she froze, starting and sitting up quickly.

"What? Where am…" she began looking around, her gaze finally connecting with his. "Oh. Um…Killian? What am I doing in your bed?"

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. "Not nearly as much as I'd like you to be."

She swatted his arm and he grinned.

"Truthfully lass," he said after a moment, "you were sorely exhausted last night. You fell asleep against my shoulder, and I hadn't the heart to wake you and force you to return to your home."

Emma smiled gently. "I love you," she said simply.

"And I you."

Emma leaned forward and joined her lips to his. This kiss was long, slow, deep. Somewhere in the midst of it, they tumbled back until they were lying across the bed. Killian brought his hand up to tangle in her hair, anchoring her to him. The kiss went on and on, wiping from his mind all thought but his love, his utter need for Emma Swan.

On the nightstand, her phone began to ring. With a groan, she dragged her mouth from his…with the greatest reluctance, if he read her correctly, and he always did.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly. "Oh, hi Mary Margaret….yeah, I guess I lost track of time…yeah, I spent the night with Killian. What of it? He is my fiancé…Oh come on! I'm a grown woman, not a teenager with a curfew!...I'm sorry I made you worry; next time I'll call…Yeah. We're still on for breakfast at Granny's right?...Okay, I'll meet you over there in fifteen minutes."

Emma stiffly rose from the bed, stretching. "Looks like it's time to start the day," she said, leaning over to give him one last, lingering kiss. "I'll come by later, okay?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

" _Fathoms below! From whence wayward westerlies blow. Where Triton is king and the merpeople sing in mysterious fathoms below_ ," Killian sang as he swabbed the deck. It was a bloody nuisance having no crew; he had to deal with all the maintenance on the  _Jolly_ on his own.

"Hook!" Killian spun around looking for the owner of the decidedly angry voice that had just bellowed his moniker. The prince…apparently angry enough to spit nails.

Killian warily laid his mop aside and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting while his future father-in-law stormed his ship.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Dave?" Charming's eyes flashed indignantly at Killian's cocky tone.

"You know perfectly well why I'm here, pirate!" Charming spat.

"Can't say I do."

"Well, then," Charming said getting right in his face, "let me enlighten you."

"By all means."

"My daughter never came home last night," Charming spat, "and when I asked around, do you know what I discovered? I discovered that my daughter accompanied you onto this very ship and didn't reemerge all night!"

Killian sighed; he should have known this was coming

"Aye," Killian said simply, "Emma stayed with me last night."

"And where, precisely did Emma  _sleep_  while she stayed with you last night?"

This was becoming ridiculous! Killian had given David his word that he would treat Emma with utmost respect. He had vowed to behave as a perfect gentleman. The fact that Emma's father believed him capable of going back on his word, of treating Emma like a common trollop, wounded him more than he wanted to admit. Wounded him and raised his ire.

"As it happens," Killian said with a lazy grin…a grin that never made it to his eyes, "the lass slept in my bed. Within the protective circle of my arms, to be exact."

Charming growled, resembling nothing quite as much as an enraged bear. Charging, the prince slammed Killian up against the mast a hand to his throat. It took every ounce of self-control Killian possessed not to strike the man's self-righteous face ! Only love of Emma made him hold his ire in check.

"I trusted you!" Charming roared. "How dare you seduce her into acting as your own personal plaything."

Killian shoved Charming from him, the rage bubbling up. "That's my future wife you're talking about!"

Charming apparently had nothing with which to reply.

"Look mate," Killian said, attempting to regain his temper, "I'll not suffer anyone to besmirch the reputation of the woman I love, not even her father. Nor will I take kindly to anyone who questions my honor!"

"What other explanation can there be fore Emma spending the night in your bed?"

Killian sighed again. "She was exhausted," he said quietly. "She's been running herself ragged. She fell asleep on my shoulder, and I hadn't the heart to send her home. I can assure you, your majesty, that when I say I slept with Emma last night, I mean just that. We merely slept."

Charming had the grace to look shamefaced. "I'm sorry if I jumped to conclusions," he said, "but it's time we got a few things straight."

"Aye?" Killian asked warily, "and what might those be."

Charming stepped forward again, getting in Killian's face. "I might have missed out on most of my daughter's life, but I'm in it now, and I'll be damned before I let anybody,  _anybody_  hurt her!"

The anger surged again. "If you think I would  _ever_  harm a single  _hair_  on Emma's head you're bloody daft!" Killian roared. "I'd give my life for her. For her, for Henry or for any lads or lasses that might come from our union!"

"You just see that you do treat her right, pirate!" Charming growled, "or you'll have me to answer to, and I promise you I'll be far less kind and generous than the worst pirates you've ever faced!"

Suddenly the rage evaporated and was left with nothing but pain. Would Charming ever see him as anything but a pirate?

"You've made your point, your majesty," Killian said in a defeated voice. "Perhaps it's best if you take your leave."

Charming nodded his head decisively. "Just as long as we understand each other."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Emma stormed into the sheriff's station, slamming the door behind her.

"David!" she yelled, stepping toward the desk where her father sat sipping coffee, "you want to tell me what the hell happened this morning?"

"Hi Emma," David said pointedly, "I'm doing great this morning. Thanks for asking."

"Cut the crap!" she said frowning fiercely. "I'll ask you one more time. What did you say to Killian this morning?"

After a long morning of wedding planning craziness, Emma had returned to the  _Jolly Roger_ , hoping to talk Killian into taking her to lunch. She'd found her pirate sequestered in the captain's quarters, taking purposeful swallows from his flask, a sour, defeated look on his face. He'd been uncharacteristically taciturn when she'd asked him what was on his mind. When pressed, he had mumbled something about her father, honor, being a pirate, and fatherly concern.

She'd heard enough to piece together what had happened, and she was furious!

"Emma," David said cautiously, "I was just trying to look out for your best interests."

"For my best interests?" she asked in a furious voice. "How on earth is making my true love miserable in my best interest?"

"Now Emma," David said with a placating hand, "There are some things a father just needs to do. I know it's hard to understand but I know..."

"Best?" she shrieked, "David I'm not fifteen! I don't need my dad to save me! I can take care of myself!"

"I just don't want you to be hurt."

"When has Killian ever hurt me?" she asked. "Ever since the day he returned to Storybrooke with the bean that took us to Neverland he's done nothing but help me, support me, love me more than I've ever been loved before."

Emma looked deep into her father's eyes. "I  _trust_  him. I trust him with my life; I trust him with Henry's life, and it's about time you and Mary Margaret started trusting him too. If it wasn't for him, you'd be a rotting corpse somewhere in Neverland! If it wasn't for him we never could have defeated Morgana Le Fay or the Wicked Witch of the West. Whatever he was before, he's certainly proven himself to be a hero now, and it's about time you start acknowledging that."

For long moments, David merely looked at her, showing nothing on his face, and then he dropped his head. "Yeah. I guess you're right," he said finally. "Listen, can you cover the station for the next hour or so?"

"Yeah," Emma answered, moving toward David's seat behind the desk, "why?"

He wrapped her in a hug. "I'm going to be out of the office for a while. It looks like I owe your pirate an apology, and there's no time like the present."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Well, this chapter kind of got away from me. It's far longer than I would have liked. And it kind of ended up somewhere between fluff and angst. 
> 
> -As far as Killian singing—it is something I badly need to happen on the actual show since I know Colin O'Donoghue actually can sing. At first, I intended to research old, 18th or 19th century sea chanties and have him sing one of those (sometimes I think I put WAY too much effort into these stories!), but in the end, I merely took a song from one of my all-time favorite Disney movies (I think I have about 10 all-time favorite Disney movies, by the way; pretty much all the princess ones. I'm such a girly girl!)
> 
> -I'm having fun throwing in nursery rhyme characters here and there. Souris aveugles is also a French phrase. Look it up and you'll figure out just what nursery rhyme I was referencing (if the details of what happened at Mrs. Farmer's house didn't give it away!)
> 
> \--Up next: Okay, technically the next chapter has nothing to do with wedding planning. Snow and Charming have a big announcement with regard to their baby and invite the whole clan over to hear it.


	6. House Hunting

It was a beautiful evening. May had come to Storybrooke a few days ago, and it looked like spring was finally here to stay. About time too. After the winter they'd had, Emma didn't care if she ever saw the season again!

Emma took in the beauty all around her as she and Killian strolled the streets of Storybrooke. Everywhere she looked she saw evidence of the new life spring brought—Crab apple trees sporting delicate pink flowers, birds busily building their nests while they sung blithely to each other, the scent of flowers blooming, the smell of freshly cut grass. Life was  _good_.

Killian took her hand, deftly lacing their fingers. "And just what has transpired to put such a look of bliss on your face, darling? Aside from the fact that you're whiling away the evening with me, of course."

Emma laughed and rested her head against his shoulder, bringing her free hand to rest against his arm. "Nothing much," she said softly. "I'm just happy; that's all."

He looked down at her, and her heart tripped over the utter adoration in his eyes. "I'm glad lass. I'm truly glad."

Emma sighed happily. "Killian, I'm sorry. I know I've been a little crazy with all the wedding planning and everything."

"Not crazy, love," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps slightly unbalanced…"

She laughed again and swatted his arm. "Remind me again why I keep you around?"

He stopped and turned toward her. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her passionately. Emma heard a bad-tempered grunt behind them.

"Oh, for the love of…" Leroy growled. "Get a room and stop blocking the sidewalk!"

Face flaming, Emma pulled away from the embrace, and pulled Killian aside. Leroy side-eyed them, well,  _grumpily_ , and then stalked past muttering under his breath.

"Perhaps the dwarf is right," Killian said as he and Emma resumed their walk. "Perhaps we best continue that particular…um…conversation when we're alone."

"Oh yeah," Emma said with a grin. "You better believe I intend to continue  _that_  'conversation'…preferably at some time and in some place where we won't be interrupted for, oh, about a week or so."

Killian chuckled appreciatively. "I like the way you think, love."

They walked in silence for some time, merely enjoying the warm, perfumed breeze, the brilliant sunset, and the love they basked in. How on earth had they managed to make it five months without a single villain showing up to attempt to destroy their lives? She could get used to normal, villain-free Storybrooke!

"So, Swan," Killian said finally, "has your mother told you why she's invited everyone to dine with them this evening?"

"Yeah," Emma said with a grin. "She had her big ultrasound yesterday."

"Ultrasound?" Killian asked in obvious confusion. "What the bloody hell is an 'ultrasound'?"

Emma grinned. "It's a kind of medical test doctors do in this realm," she explained. "The doctor uses it to, well, see inside of a woman's womb. The pictures show on a screen, kind of like a tv, and everyone in the room can see the baby moving around."

"Truly?" Killian said in wonder. "Lass, you claim there's no magic in this realm, but this 'ultrasound' sounds rather magical to me."

"I suppose it kind of is," Emma said, remembering her own ultrasounds within the prison. She hadn't planned to look at the images on screen; she truly hadn't. It was hard enough knowing she would have to give up her baby. The thought of seeing him…it would be torture. But then the ultrasound tech had smiled and commented about how active her little one was, and Emma had broken down and looked. It was the most beautiful…and the most heartbreaking sight she'd ever seen.

"And aside from being in awe after seeing their babe," Killian asked, "what about an ultrasound warrants a special dinner thrown for the family?"

Emma grinned. "The ultrasound at this particular time is a very important one," she said, "for the first time, the doctor will be able to tell the gender of the baby. David and Mary Margaret are throwing a little party where they'll reveal whether I'm getting a baby sister or a baby brother."

"Ah," Killian said, "and what is your guess, love?"

"I'm thinking…girl," Emma said decisively.

Killian shook his head. "Nay," he said confidently, "as much as I would love to see another lovely Charming lass grace the world, I am of the decided opinion that the princess will soon give birth to a tiny prince."

Emma squeezed his hand. "You want to put a little wager on that?"

He grinned. "What are the stakes, darling?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "How about the winner decides on the stakes after the sex is revealed?"

He grinned wickedly. "You're on love. And I shall think long and hard about just what I shall demand of you as forfeit when I am crowned the winner."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Thanks for bringing the lasagna, Regina," Mary Margaret said wiping her mouth after finishing her last bite.

"It was indeed delectable, Your Majesty," Killian said.

Emma was endlessly amazed at his resourcefulness. He always displayed flawless decorum and impeccable manners when eating. How on earth did he, a man with only one hand make her feel like an absolute slob in comparison?

"It was no problem at all," Regina answered with a tender smile in Henry's direction. "As it happens, I had quite the useful helper. I don't know what you did with him during the past year, Miss Swan, but I was  _never_ able to get him to help in the kitchen before."

"I had no choice," Henry said with a mischievous smirk he must have picked up from Killian. "Aside from breakfast, Mom can't cook anything to save her life!"

"Hey!" Emma said, playfully punching him on the shoulder. "You just watch out, kid. I'll show you who can cook and who can't!"

Henry and Killian exchanged grins. "No you won't, Mom. Killian will keep you so occupied you won't even think about cooking."

"Too right, lad. Too right."

"Hook!"

"I'm sorry darling," he said with a wink. "It's nothing personal. It's simple self-preservation; I've tasted your cooking!"

"Ah," she said leaning in towards him, "so you finally admit you can't handle it?"

"Well, love," he said with a wicked grin. "That would depend on what 'it' is. If 'it' is your cooking, no indeed, I can't handle it."

She swatted him.

"But if 'it' is this…" he closed the distance between them, taking her lips with his own, earning them a disgusted groan from Henry. "That, darling, I can handle perfectly."

Emma chanced a quick look at her father. Though Charming was wearing a slight, disconcerted frown, he wasn't charging in guns blazing, so that was something. Actually, since Charming had apologized to Killian for his venture into  _way_  over-protective father mode the other day, her father and her fiancé seemed to be getting along better than ever. Good thing! If it had turned out she had to spend the rest of her life playing interference between the two men, she didn't know what she'd do. Probably just throw up her hands let them duke it out.

"You two really are nauseating," Regina taunted, the grin on her face belying her disgusted tone.

"What do you expect when you get a true love couple together?" Charming said lightly.

A shadow passed across Regina's face and Charming immediately looked chagrined.

"Regina," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. That was…"

"It's alright," Regina interrupted. "If I'm going to keep spending time with this family, I'll have to get used to public displays of true love. Just because I'm realms away from my true love doesn't mean you have to hide yours."

There was silence in the kitchen for several moments.

"You seem to be doing a little better, Regina," Mary Margaret said tentatively.

Regina ran a carefully manicured hand through her hair and blew out a sigh. "Yes," she said finally. "Things are…not as difficult."

"What's changed?" Emma asked.

"Robin would want me to go on with my life," she said with a little shrug. "That, and, well, if I'm going to figure out a way back to him and Roland, I can't be wallowing in self-pity."

Mary Margaret leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on the queen's arm. "And we  _will_  find a way to reunite you, Regina," she said with an earnestness that was pure Mary Margaret. "True love never ends, and those who experience it  _always_ find a way back to each other. I know we've been busy lately, but I promise you, when this wedding is over, we'll find a way to get you back to the Enchanted Forest or Robin and Roland to Storybrooke."

Tears filled Regina's eyes, and she turned away to swipe at them as though embarrassed by her show of emotion. "Thank you," she said thickly. "It…it means a lot that you would try to help me."

Charming clapped her on the shoulder. "We're family," he said simply. "Helping each other is what families do."

They sat in silence for some time, lost in thought.  _Family_. The fact that she  _had_ one still filled her with wonder. Two years ago she was alone, scared to death to let  _anyone_  in. Now..she had parents, a son, a baby brother or sister on the way, and a fiancé she loved beyond all reason. It was almost too much to take in. Killian reached over and laced his fingers with hers, giving her hand a quick squeeze. He understood; he always understood.

"Well, I guess everyone's done eating," Henry said, jumping to his feet and grabbing empty plates from the table. "Better start cleaning up."

"What?" Emma asked with raised eyebrows. "Since when do you do the dishes without even being asked, kid?"

"Since I told him we weren't going to tell you our big news until we'd cleaned up," Charming said with a grin.

"Yeah," Henry said taking a second load of dishes to the sink, "I can't wait any longer to find out about my new  _uncle_!"

"Good try, buddy," Charming said with a laugh, "I'm  _still_ not falling for that!"

Henry had been ambushing his grandparents since the previous day when they found out about the baby, making comments like "So, how's my  _aunt_?" or "Is my  _uncle_  kicking a lot today, grandma?", obviously hoping to get one or the other of them to slip up and tell him what he wanted to know. Last night, Emma had heard him muttering something about "Operation Stork."

Emma got to her feet and maneuvered with some difficulty over to the sink. Six people in this tiny kitchen really was tight fit. Rolling up her sleeves, she set to working with Henry, and the two of them had the kitchen spotless in record time.

"Alright, everyone!" Mary Margaret said. "Take a seat in the living room. It's time for our news."

Emma wandered into the room as directed and found Killian sitting in an easy chair. He tugged on her arm until she was seated across his lap. "Not nearly enough chairs in this bloody room," he said with a flirtatious wink.

Emma grinned and looped an arm around his neck, turning toward the middle of the room where her mother waited anxiously. "Then I suppose it's only right that I play the good hostess and give up my seat to our guests," she said. Killian hugged her.

Charming joined his wife where she stood, his arm coming to rest protectively against her stomach.

"We wanted you to be the first to know," Mary Margaret said excitedly, "that in about four months our new  _son_  will come into the world!"

"I knew it!" Henry said pumping a fist into the air. "It's a boy!"

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Emma leaned her head against Killian's shoulder as they sat on the park bench on the docks two hours later.

"How did we manage this?" she asked with a smile.

"How did we manage what, Swan?" he asked, resting his head on top of hers.

"An  _entire_  day with no wedding craziness."

He chuckled. "We've found the secret, love."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"We must simply ensure that your parents have important information to share with us at all times, and thus render them far too busy to plan our nuptials."

Emma laughed and then sighed. "Are we going to survive this last month before we're  _finally_  married."

"Aye, lass," he said, and she felt his smile against her hair. "It will be a close thing, but we shall survive. And in the meantime, I do believe you owe me a forfeit. I won our wager on your brother's gender, and I've never yet allowed myself to be cheated out of what I'm due."

She sat up and grinned at him. "Alright," she said, "far be it from me to renege on a deal. What's the forfeit?"

He looked at her, forefinger on his chin, apparently pondering deeply. Finally, he shook his head. "Nay," he said finally. "I shall wait to determine the forfeit."

She smirked. "Why is that?"

He gave her a lazy grin. "I have yet to determine what you shall owe me, but I can promise you Swan, you will find it well worth your wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This chapter was supposed to be about Killian and Emma hunting for a house, but then the baby gender-reveal party happened, and it kind of took over! And then, I suddenly had a vision of Killian at Emma's first ultrasound with their oldest child, and…I'm not okay! :-) That is now something I need. Can you imagine the wonder on his face when he first sees his baby on the ultrasound screen? This is something I may need to write eventually!
> 
> -Up next (unless I change my mind this time too!): House Hunting. It occurs to Emma, that David and Mary Margaret's loft is simply not big enough for everyone…not to mention it would provide Killian and Emma basically no privacy when they're newly-wed. So, they find a certain never-before-seen-on-OUAT fairy tale character who works as a real estate agent in Storybrooke. Can they find the home that's just right?


	7. The House

"Hey Emma, pass the butter."

Emma looked up at the sound of her father's voice and then reached for the tub she'd just used to butter her toast. Turning around to pass it to her father, she ran right into her mother who was preparing a sack lunch.

"Uh!" Emma grunted. "Sorry Mary Margaret."

Her mom waved her apology aside and then went on with her task.

This kitchen was  _way_ too small for three adults to occupy at once. Emma continued her preparations for her and Henry's breakfasts, trying valiantly not to run into (or be run into by) David or Mary Margaret.

Speaking of her son, where  _was_  he? If he was still in the shower, she was going to be a seriously unhappy camper. She had yet to shower and prepare for the day, and they were  _already_  running late! This was becoming a daily occurrence!

Emma stepped carefully past her parents and over to the bathroom where she heard the water running. She wrapped sharply on the door.

"Hurry up, kid," she said irritably. "We're going to be late."

"Almost done, Mom," he shouted back.

Emma wandered back toward the kitchen, snagged her coffee and plate of toast, and sat down at the table. She sighed. She couldn't really blame Henry. The two of them shared a loft the size of a postage stamp with her parents. A loft, she might add, that sported only  _one_  full bath! One bathroom shared among four people was a recipe for disaster when it came to preparing for the day in the morning.

Just imagine what it would be like when the baby arrived…and when Killian moved in! She and Killian hadn't ever really talked about living arrangements, but Emma assumed the loft would be their home. After all, much as she liked the  _Jolly Roger_ , it ( _she_ , Killian would correct her) wasn't a home.

Henry  _finally_ emerged from the bathroom, clean and fresh, and wrapped her in a hug.

"It's all yours, Mom."

Emma brought his head down for a quick kiss. "Eat up, Henry. Don't want to be late for school."

Emma glanced at the clock as she gathered her toiletries and clean clothes…and she groaned.  _Ten minutes!_  Well, so much for washing her hair this morning. Looks like it was going to be a pony-tail day.

Turning on the tap, Emma glanced absently into the mirror. It wasn't just the one bathroom situation or the general lack of space (which was getting to be more and more of a problem every day as David and Mary Margaret continued bringing in more baby items) that was bothering her. It was the sleeping arrangements. The upstairs of the loft was just one large bonus room that she shared with Henry. She had a queen sized bed in one corner, and he had a twin in the other. The arrangement worked fine for the two of them, but in a month, Killian would be sharing her bed. Probably nothing could scream awkward and just plain wrong more than being a newly-wed and sharing your bedroom with your husband  _and_  your preteen son!

As Emma finished her shower and quickly threw on her clothes, she realized it was definitely time for a change. It was time she and Killian start looking for their  _own_ home.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

The bell over the door of Granny's rang, and Killian looked up from his booth.  _Swan_. Even after all the time they'd spent together, he still got the same jolt of awareness every time she walked into his line of sight.

"You're doing it again," Henry said from his perch on the other side of the booth.

"What's that lad?" Killian said tearing his gaze from Emma. She'd stopped to talk to Dr. Hopper, and the man laughed at something she'd said.

"Wearing that  _look_ ," Henry said. "You know, the dorky one you get whenever my mom walks into the room."

 _Dorky_? Hm…he'd wager that wasn't a compliment. He'd yet to master pre-teen vocabulary, but then, it seemed many adults in this realm had the same difficulty.

"Ah," Killian said leaning back and winking at the boy. "Would that be the same  _dorky_  look you wear when a certain young miss named Grace comes into your presence?"

The boy's face flamed. "Killian!"

He chuckled.

Emma walked up, leaned down, and gave him a quick kiss before sitting beside the boy.

"Henry!" she said in surprise, "what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

Henry grinned at him. "See, Killian," the boy said, "I told you she forgot!"

"I forgot wha…" she said, and then her eyes widened. "The teacher work day! You got off at noon today! Sorry kid; I got so busy I totally forgot."

"No problem, Mom," Henry said taking a sip of his cola. "I called Killian and he came and picked me up."

Emma turned toward him, her eyes narrowed. "Since when do you have a phone, and why didn't I know about it?"

Killian grinned, raising his hands in surrender. "Easy, love. I am as yet still resisting the pressure to get one of those infernally complex contraptions. Bloody nuisance, they are."

Henry laughed. "I'm still working on him, Mom," he said in a conspiratorial tone. "I'll convince him to get a phone yet, and then you'll be mad because we'll never get him off of it!"

"Not bloody likely!" Killian growled in mock outrage. "I far prefer speaking to people face to face."

"Yeah?" Emma asked leaning forward, "and why is that?"

He closed the distance until his face was less than a breath from hers. "On the telephone, my love," he said gently, raising his good hand to cup her cheek, "I cannot see your lovely face. I cannot read the earnest expressions as they pass across your delightful features. You cannot see the utter devotion in my eyes; how much I completely and utterly adore you. On the telephone I cannot do this."

Killian watched her eyes soften and her breath catch as he leaned forward, obliterating the last whisper of space between them. The kiss was slow, sweet…and far too short.

"Ugh," Henry said with a theatrical sigh. Killian broke the kiss and sat back, turning amused eyes toward his soon-to-be step-son.

"And what precisely do you mean by that, lad?"

"I'm glad you and Mom are in love and getting married and everything, but geez!" he rolled his eyes, "you guys can be  _so_ embarrassing!"

Killian winked at the boy. "From what I've gathered from those in your realm, it is the prerogative of parents to utterly embarrass their offspring."

Emma giggled. It was that small, delighted giggle she reserved for those times she was thoroughly happy. "Sorry, kid," she said, smile still draping her face, "you're going to have to get used to PDA. It's what engaged couples and newly-weds do. Besides, one day you'll fall in love, and then you'll be just as 'embarrassing' as us."

"Ugh!" Henry said again. "I hope I'm never as bad as you two! I'm telling you; Killian, sometimes you can be so  _cool_ , but then you get around Mom and you get completely sappy!"

 _Cool_. Now, if he wasn't mistaken, the lad was not speaking of the temperature of his person but was rather paying him a complement of sorts.

"Killian's always cool," Emma said breezily as she took a sip of the ice water Ruby set before her.

"So, what can I get you love-birds today?" Ruby said perkily. "I already know Henry'll go with the 'pirate special'."

Killian watched the grin flit across Emma's face and remembered the day the wolf-girl had first used the phrase 'pirate special' before her.

_"Let me guess, Killian," Ruby said, pad of paper at the ready, "Pirate special?"_

_"Aye, lass," Killian answered lazily. "That will suit me perfectly."_

_As Ruby walked away, Emma leaned forward. "Alright, so now I'm intrigued. What exactly is a 'pirate special'?"_

_"'Tis what Ruby has chosen to call my most frequent order."_

_"And what might that be?" Emma asked, taking a sip of her water._

_"Well, love," he said, leaning back lazily, "ever since your lad introduced me to the joys of peanut butter, I cannot get enough of it. A 'pirate special' is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, potato chips, and chocolate milk."_

_Emma snorted and only narrowly avoided spewing the sip she'd just taken all over the table. "A peanut butter sandwich?!" she laughed. "The fearsome Captain Hook, terror of the high seas orders a peanut butter sandwich so often that it's come to be referred to as a 'pirate special'?!"_

_"Aye, lass," he said with a grin._

_She laughed long and hard. "Killian, I think you just pretend to be an adult," she said. "You're really just a big, overgrown five-year-old."_

_He leaned forward again, sporting a grin that was anything but innocent. "I can assure you, darling, my tastes may, at times be infantile, but I am all man."_

"Aye," Killian finally answered Ruby. "The pirate special it is for me as well."

"Well, I guess it's up to me to be the adult around here," Emma said with a grin. "I'll go with a burger and fries."

Ruby scribbled on her pad of paper and then headed off to the next table. "So," Emma said, "you two never answered my question. If Killian doesn't have a phone, how did you call him to come pick you up?"

"I called Grandpa's phone," Henry said with a shrug. "I figured wherever Grandpa was, Killian had to be near-by."

"Aye," Killian said, grinning. He was more relieved than he could say that he and the prince had reconciled. He had found the prince's anger and disapproval agonizing.

"Well, thanks for picking him up, Killian," Emma said. "I should have remembered."

"'Twas no trouble, Emma," Killian said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I was pleased to be of assistance."

"Yeah," Henry said, "besides, he's practically my dad anyway. It's what parents do."

Killian felt the lad's statement warm his very heart.  _Parents_! How long had he wished for a son? And now, his wonderful Emma's son thought of himself as a father!

"So, Mom," Henry said, "what were you so busy with that made you forget about me?"

Emma blew out a breath. "What else? The wedding."

"What lovely details were you and the princess attending to this morning?" Killian asked.

"Flowers," she said, biting into her hamburger with a contented sigh. "Mary Margaret and I had an appointment with Mr. French at Game of Thorns. I think we looked through every book and every flower he owns, but we finally found the perfect bridal bouquet."

"Did Grandma finally agree to your color scheme?"

"Yeah," Emma said. "I am eternally grateful to my soon-to-be-born little brother. Mary Margaret is so into 'nesting' right now that she has backed  _way_  off of the wedding stuff. Red and black it is!"

"Speaking of that, love," Killian said, "you're brother's crib arrived this morning. I left your father wrestling with the directions. I fear the little lad will be grown before his bed is constructed."

Emma laughed. "When is David going to face the fact that he's not a handy man? Mary Margaret and I told him he should have hired Geppetto to put the crib together, but sometimes he can be too stubborn for his own good."

"Come now, darling," Killian said, feeling the need to defend his mate. "'Tis a man's prerogative to provide for his family."

Emma merely rolled her eyes.

"Where are they even going to  _put_  the crib?" Henry asked. "There's so much baby stuff in the loft, we already can barely move around."

"About that," Emma said turning suddenly serious. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about, Killian, and it's good you're here too, kid."

"What's that, love?"

"We're bursting at the seams in that loft!" she answered in obvious annoyance. "Once we get married, well, things will get completely out of hand."

"There's always the  _Jolly."_

There was that exasperated look again. "Really? Killian that one night we spent together on your tiny bed left me with a stiff neck for two days! We need a much bigger bed."

Killian grinned wickedly. "Oh, aye, love," he growled low in his throat. "A comfortable bed is of utmost importance. Should I get my way, we'll spend copious amounts of time within its confines."

"Ew!" Henry said, bringing his hands up to cover his ears. "I do  _not_  need to hear about this!"

"My apologies, mate," Killian said, knowing he sounded anything but repentant.

"As it turns out," Emma said, "I have another idea. Killian, I think we should buy our own house."

"Really?" Henry asked in excitement. "Can I have my own room?"

"Sure," Emma said. "I figure we'll need at least three bedrooms. One for me and Killian, one for you, and a spare room."

"Oh no, Lass," Killian said with a grin, "three will not be nearly enough. We will need far more than that."

"Why?"

"We will need room for the houseful of lads and lasses we'll make, love."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I assume by 'houseful' you mean two or three?"

"Of course," he said, grinning still wider. "Two or three will be sufficient to start. And they will pave the way for all their brothers and sisters!"

Emma closed her eyes and groaned. "We need to have a serious discussion about this, Jones!"

"Oh, darling," he purred, "I look forward to discussing this topic in great depth."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Turn left in five-hundred feet…one-hundred feet…turn left now…recalculating."

"Now see here!" Killian thundered from his perch in the bug's passenger seat, "there's no call to use such a tone! You will treat my fiancée with respect or you'll find my hook through your metal cover!"

Emma rolled her eyes and then giggled. Killian versus the modern world was priceless! "Killian," she said, still giggling, "I appreciate you wanting to defend my honor, but I doubt my parents would appreciate it if you destroyed their GPS."

"I don't appreciate her demanding nature, lass," he said in exasperation. "She demands you follow her directions to the letter. She's worse than a naval captain!"

"Welcome to the wonderful world of modern technology!"

It was actually their second foray into the world of modern technology in as many days. Yesterday, after their lunch at Granny's, they'd returned to the loft and discussed their idea with David and Mary Margaret.

"You…you don't want to live with us anymore?" Mary Margaret asked in a small voice.

"It's not that, Mary Margaret," Emma had hastened to reassure. "It's just…do you think this place can really house four adults, one pre-teen and a newborn?"

"But," Mary Margaret continued, "we finally found you. We finally have peace without villains or evil spells. We've finally gotten time to bond as a family. Being together has been nice, hasn't it?"

"Of course, your majesty," Killian answered smoothly, "and our commitment to spending time with the family will not cease, but look at it from our perspective. As a couple newly wed, we should like our own space."

"Yeah," David said, sighing. "Snow, they'll need their privacy. Sharing a loft bedroom with Henry isn't exactly going to work for them."

"I suppose you're right," Mary Margaret said glumly.

"Don't worry…Mom," Emma said, hoping the term would mollify Mary Margaret. Judging by the light in her eyes it seemed to work. "We'll still see you every day. Not that much will change."

"In the meantime," Killian said, stepping in, "we've come to ask your advice."

"Yeah," Emma agreed. "Do you guys know of any good real estate agents?"

Her parents looked at each other for a moment, and then turned back to her.

"Well, Emma," David said, "you ought to try Roberta Goldenen-Harr. Most everyone around here's bought and sold their houses through her."

"Yeah," Mary Margaret agreed, sitting beside David on the couch and lacing their fingers. "Roberta is the best. She's an expert at finding people a house that's just right for them."

And so Emma and Killian had proceeded to the computer to Google said Ms. Golenen-Harr.

"The Internet," Killian said, as Emma typed the real estate agent's name into the search bar. "This is the device Henry spoke of, is it not? The device that can speak to other computers and find any information one might wish to access?"

"Yeah," Emma said clicking on the link for 'Goldenen-Harr Real Estate Agency.' "I guess that's one way to describe it."

Ms. Goldenen-Haar's website sported a colorful drawing of three bears having tea just outside of a picturesque cottage.

"Let's look at the reviews," Emma said.

"Reviews?" Killian asked, brow furrowed.

"Yeah," Emma explained. "That's where people write about what they think of her. You know, let people know whether she's really any good or not."

For the most part, the reviews were positive. Homeowner after homeowner spoke in glowing terms of Ms. Goldenen-Haar's knack of finding the perfect home to suit their needs. There was only one less-than-glowing report.

"Emma, love," Killian said pointing to the screen, "take a gander at what this gentleman has to say."

Emma dutifully read the review posted by one Vater Bar.

_"This woman is an absolute disgrace! Her utter lack of professionalism knows no bounds! When my wife, my son and I decided to put our cottage on the market, we hired Roberta Goldenen-Haar, who came to us highly recommended. One morning, she insisted we leave our house at a moment's notice for a showing. She didn't even give us the time to finish our breakfast! Putting our faith in Ms. Goldenen-Haar, we went for a walk in the woods. When we returned an hour later, we found she had sampled our porridge (finishing my son's), sat in our chairs (breaking my son's) and tested our beds (not that it's any of your business, but yes, my wife and I sleep in separate beds; she snores loud enough to wake the dead, and, well, I need my sleep!). We found our disgraced real estate agent asleep in my son's bed! Needless to say, we fired her on the spot. Not only that, but I grabbed my shotgun and chased that no-good squatter out of my house, and out of my woods! We haven't seen her since. Looking for a good real estate agent? My advice is to stay as far from Roberta Goldenen-Haar as possible!"_

"Well, that's…weird," Emma said.

"Oh, don't worry about that, Emma," Mary Margaret said with a wave of her hand. "Vater Bar's crazy. Everyone knows that. He and his family are real bears."

So, Emma had called the agency (Killian still refusing to have anything to do with the telephone) and set up an appointment for the following day, and here they were.

No thanks to the GPS which attempted to get them lost no less than three times, Emma managed to pull into the parking lot of the Goldenen-Haar Real Estate Agency with five minutes to spare. When they walked through the doors, they found themselves face to face with a perky middle-aged blonde. Her wavy hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and she wore a demure gray business suit. No sooner had Killian issued Emma through the doorway with a hand to her lower back than the woman, who could be no other than Roberta Goldenen-Haar rushed up to them, pumping their hands enthusiastically.

"You must be Miss Swan and Captain Jones!" she said with a wide, toothy smile. "Lovely to meet you. And you're getting married? Lovely. You'll make such beautiful babies!"

"Um…thank you…I think," Emma said. Was this woman for real? Who  _said_  something like that to a pair of strangers?

"Now come with me," Roberta said, herding the two of them out the door. "We've no time to spare. Chop, chop! You're not too early and not too late. You've come just on time. I have three simply  _lovely_  properties to show you, and I know one of them will be just right for your new family."

The first property Roberta drove them to was deep within the woods. It was a huge, gothic mansion shrouded in mists and eeriness.  _This place is creepy as hell_. It looked like the set of a bad horror flick. Almost unconsciously, Emma clung tighter to Killian's hand.

"Not scared, are you, lass?" he said with a teasing grin.

"You wish!" she shot back.

The inside was no more welcoming than the outside. Stuck in this house, Emma would be plagued by nightmares every single freaking night!

"What is the history of this domicile, if you wouldn't mind," Killian asked politely.

"I'm glad you asked," Ms. Goldenen-Haar said with enthusiasm. "This particular property was built 150 years ago, and has been kept solely within the possession of the Dracula family."

"Dracula? Really?" Emma asked with a raise of her eyebrows. "What happened? Did the last Dracula end up with a stake through his heart?"

"No," Ms. Goldenen-Haar said. "As it turns out, he was stricken with a fatal bout of food poisoning when his butler mistakenly served him a slice of garlic bread."

_What even is my life?_

Needless to say, Dracula's creepy mansion was out of the running.

Next they were ushered into a tiny little ranch style house in the middle of town. Emma had thought David and Mary Margaret's flat was cramped, but compared to this, it was a palace.

"This quaint little place, nicknamed 'The Shoe', is simply perfect for a young couple just starting out!"  _Not sure we qualify as a 'young couple' considering Killian's over 300 years old!_

"Might I inquire why the last occupants vacated the premises?" Killian asked, peering into the master bedroom which was barely large enough for the two of them to lay down in, let alone put a bed in.

"Well," Ms. Goldenen-Haar said, "she was a rather old woman, and she had a ridiculous number of children. Poor dear. I think she simply got to the point where she didn't know what to do."

By the time the three of them left 'The Shoe' behind, Emma's head was aching and she was beginning to profoundly regret this real estate venture. Maybe Vater Bar had it right about this woman!

But then they reached the third property, a homey, two story house with a white picket fence situated beside the sea. The moment they walked through the gate, Emma knew she was home. This place was perfect!

"Given your expressions," Ms. Goldenen-Haar said with a grin, "I think it would be safe to assume this house is just right!"

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Several hours later Killian sat on the deck of the  _Jolly_ , his arms wrapped around Emma. They'd put what the shockingly perky blonde real estate agent had called 'an offer' in on the little house by the sea. Now they must simply wait to see whether their offer was accepted.

"You do like it, don't you Killian?" Emma asked, looking up and absently caressing his face.

He smiled, turned his head and placed a burning kiss on her palm. "Aye, love," he said. "I would be content living anywhere as long as it's with you."

She sighed in what he could only consider contentment. "How do you manage to pull off such obviously cheesy lines?"

"'Tis a gift, darling," he said with a grin. She swatted him. He reached up and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

"But seriously," Emma said, "I feel like I'm always stepping in trying to make all the decisions. This will be your house too. Do you really like it?"

He smiled and laid his cheek on top of her head, savoring the silky feel of her hair. "It's perfect, lass. When I toured the master bedroom and saw that the window looks out upon the sea, I knew I'd found the perfect house. Lass, there's nothing like the lapping waves and the salty sea breeze to relax you and help you fall asleep. And with you nestled in my arms, it will be heaven."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I decided to go with German for the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears because…I don't know; German just seemed to fit. Goldenen-Haar, actually translates to Golden Hair. I couldn't really go with Goldilocks, because the German translation is, well, Goldilocks. By the way, her first name is Roberta because the first one to write the story of Goldilocks in narrative form (Yes, I actually did research. I'm dorky like that!) was Robert Southey. In case you're wondering, Vater Bar translates to Father Bear.
> 
> -Three chapters to go! Up next: The Bridal Party. With only two and a half weeks left until the big day, Killian and Emma need to decide on bridesmaids and groomsmen. When Emma can't decide on a maid of honor, Ruby has a creative solution.


	8. The Bridal Party

"Let the first annual bridesmaids games begin!" Ruby called excitedly.

 _First annual? How many times did Ruby think Emma and Killian would be getting married?_  If the number was any higher than one, they were going to be having words. Emma still wasn't completely convinced she would survive planning her first trip down the aisle!

The bridesmaids games were her own fault, really. If she'd just picked a maid of honor to begin with, none of this would have happened.

It all started about three days ago when Emma and Killian were at her parent's flat for a dinner celebrating the purchase of The Pirate Cove, as Killian insisted on christening their new home. Mary Margaret had mercifully avoided any topic related to wedding planning until after they'd finished dessert.

"Only two and a half weeks to go!" she'd said once the last plate had been placed in the sink. "I can't believe it; the time has flown. And we still have so much to do!"

"Oh, I don't know, Mary Margaret," Emma said. "I think we're in pretty good shape. I mean, I've got the dress, we've booked the chapel at the convent for the ceremony and the town hall for the reception. Regina's agreed to officiate, since she's the mayor. We've chosen colors and bought all kinds of stuff to decorate the hall with. We've picked out music and sent out invitations. What more is there to worry about?  
"Speaking of invitations," Mary Margaret said, jumping to her feet, somewhat awkwardly due to her rapidly increasing girth, "we got ten more replies today."

Mary Margaret set a stack of cards down before Emma and Killian. Emma couldn't help but admire the header, despite its cheesiness. Their names were embossed across the top in flowery script. The names were separated by a red and black heart, the left half of which was a hook and the right half a graceful swan's neck.

"Ah," Killian said with only a hint of sarcasm, "so it appears the Crocodile will be attending."

"Of course!" Mary Margaret said. "You know Belle wouldn't miss the wedding for the world, and she's not exactly going to come without her husband!"

"And look at this one!" Emma exclaimed pulling a card from the middle, "It looks like Neal and Tinkerbell are coming together!"

"Hardly a surprise, love," Killian said. He draped his arm around her shoulder and absently began stroking it. "The two have been courting quite seriously for some time now. I'd not be surprised if they are the next to follow us down the aisle."

Emma laughed.

"What's funny?" David asked.

"I'm just imagining explaining my life to some of my friends back in Boston or New York," she said. "Can you just see it? 'Yeah, so I'm marrying Captain Hook and the father of my son might marrying Tinkerbell.' They'd probably drag me to the nearest shrink by sheer force!"

"Hmm," Mary Margaret said reflectively, "things certainly are different than we thought they were back before the first dark curse was broken."

"Aye," Killian said, "but strange though they may be, I'm grateful they have transpired as they did. If it weren't for the queen's curse, I never would have met Emma."

"I guess things just have a way of working out the way they're supposed to," Emma answered.

"But anyway," Mary Margaret said, coming back to her first topic of conversation. "With just over two weeks to go, we're really down to the wire."

"But again," Emma countered, "what more is there to do really?"

Mary Margaret's eyes widened, and she stared at Emma and Killian in dawning horror. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, "the bridal party! Emma, Killian you haven't chosen bridesmaids or groomsmen!"

Emma groaned. "Ugh! I should have known there was something big we were forgetting!"

Killian looked down at her in confusion. "What are bridesmaids and groomsmen?"

"They stand up with a bride and groom at a wedding," David answered. "The bride and the groom pick people who are close friends or family to be their attendants. It's a great honor to be chosen. Particularly if you're chosen as the maid of honor or the best man."

"Ah," Killian said, nodding sagely. "Then for me, it is a simple decision. David, mate, I would be honored to have you as my best man. You are, after all my best mate, and in little more than two weeks you will be family."

Emma looked over at her father. He looked truly affected by the request.

"While that's very nice, Killian," Mary Margaret said firmly, "it just won't work. David's the father of the bride. He'll be otherwise occupied throughout the day."

"Hmm," Killian said, "that  _is_  unfortunate."

There was silence in the small kitchen for several moments, and then Killian's face lit up with a gentle smile. "There is one other I should like to ask," he said looking down at Emma. "Love, would you have any objection to my asking Henry to be my best man?"

Emma felt tears prick her eyes. "Killian, that would be wonderful!"

"Yeah," Mary Margaret agreed, "Henry obviously adores you. What a wonderful way to celebrate the blending of your family!"

"Alright," David said, "best man, check. How about a maid of honor, Emma?"

Who  _did_  she want as her maid of honor? Well that was easy, really, but at the same time as much of an impossibility as Killian's first choice. "Well," Emma said finally, "My first choice, would be you, Mary Margaret. You've been one of my best friends since the day I first drove into Storybrooke, but I guess that won't work, either."

"Oh Emma!" Mary Margaret said with a small cry. She awkwardly got to her feet and threw her arms around her daughter. "That is the nicest thing you could have said to me! If I wasn't busy with mother-of-the-bride duties, I would be honored to accept"

Emma hugged her mother back. "But you will be," she said, "so I'm back to the drawing board."

"Maybe you should just start by picking bridesmaids in general, Emma," David said. "Then from there you can decide on the maid of honor.

It was as good a plan as any.

"Well," she said slowly "I guess, I want Ruby and Belle and Ariel and Tinkerbelle. I seem to spend the most time with them."

"Excellent," Mary Margaret said writing down the names. "Now your turn, Killian. We need a matched set of bridesmaids and groomsmen. You already picked Henry. Choose three more."

Killian stared sightlessly into the distance, obviously in thought. The hand on Emma's shoulder stilled momentarily and then began its caresses once more.

"That is a matter of more difficulty," he said. "I did little to ingratiate myself to those in this town when I first arrived. I fear few would find such a request from me welcome."

Mary Margaret laid her hand on Killian's arm. "Don't worry," she said, "the people of this town are big into giving second chances. Though you might have been a villain in the past, you've more than proven yourself a hero. I think you might be surprised how many people would jump at the chance to be your groomsman."

Emma looked up into her fiancé's face. It shown in a way she'd rarely seen. He may act strong and self-sufficient, but he didn't fool her. He craved the approval of family, and Mary Margaret's words touched him deeply. Looking across the table, she caught her mother's eye and mouthed "Thank you!"

"Thank you, your majesty," Killian said, his voice having gone slightly husky with emotion. "Perhaps I should ask Bae, if it wouldn't be too awkward for you, lass?"

"Not at all," Emma answered. "Neal and I are on good terms now, you know. All that happened between us is long in the past. There's no…I don't know…lingering hurt or anything left."

"Good," Mary Margaret nodded once again scribbling on her piece of paper. "So Neal's the second. We need two more."

Killian thought for a second. "I cannot forget my faithful companion throughout my pirating days. Mr. Smee shall be the third."

"Smee," Mary Margaret muttered absently as she wrote.

"And," Killian finished reflectively, "I suppose aside from those I've previously mentioned, the man I've had the most interaction with would be Leroy. He shall be my fourth."

"Excellent!" Mary Margaret said, clapping her hands. "We've got bridesmaids, we've got groomsmen, and we've got a best man. All that's left, Emma, is for you to choose a maid of honor!"

Did she even care who her maid of honor was? "I don't know, Mary Margaret," she said with a sigh, "maybe I'll just let the four of them fight it out amongst themselves."

And so here they were, three days later preparing for the start of the bridesmaids games, a novelty of Ruby's concocting, which would hopefully lead in the end to the selecting of a maid of honor.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"The first event," Ruby said looking around at the crowd gathered within Granny's, "is entitled 'care of the dress.' Each prospective maid of honor will be charged with the task of keeping the bride from tripping over the train. When the bride has finished walking, the prospective m-o-h will need to position the train so that it is shown off in its most artistic light."

"Shouldn't you be donning said dress, darling?" Killian whispered to Emma from where they sat in throne-like chairs Ruby had dubbed the seats of honor.

Emma elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't give them any ideas!"

Killian leaned down and kissed her simply because he could.

"None of that!" Ruby said with a grin. "You guys have to pay attention. This is your wedding after all!"

"My apologies lass," Killian called good-naturedly. "I shall attempt to keep my hand to myself, despite the fetching woman beside me."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You are so full of it."

Killian pecked her once more on the lips. "And yet, darling, you love me still."

"True," she agreed, settling more firmly within the shelter of his arms.

"First up is Belle!" Ruby announced. She rang a bell and Ashley, wearing an intricate wedding gown, walked down the "aisle." Belle waited at the "altar." When Ashley reached the dummy, obviously meant to represent Killian Jones, Belle, dropped to the ground and fanned out Ashley's train behind her.

The result looked sufficient to Killian; after all, what did he know of the intricacies of women's fashion? But the judges—Regina, Mary Margaret and Granny, tutted in disapproval.

"Come on girl!" Granny growled, "you can do better than that. Look at all the creases!"

"Watch it Granny!" the Crocodile hissed, "that's my  _wife_  you're talking to."

"Well I meant no offense," Granny huffed, "but truth is truth no matter whose wife she is."

At first glance, Killian believed Ariel's attempt had been more successful. There was not a wrinkle to be seen on the delicate white train. But Regina, it seemed, was less than impressed.

"I'm guessing Ms. Swan and the Pirate want to be married sometime this century," she sneered. "If you take that long every time you arrange the train, we'll all be old and gray before the wedding comes to an end."

Tinkerbell and Ruby put forth valiant attempts, but in the end, it was determined that Ruby was the victor in the first round.

"Next," Ruby said, face flushed with her first victory, "is the juggling of the bouquets."

"Lass," Killian said greatly amused, "please tell me that in this realm brides and their maids are not expected to  _juggle_  their floral arrangements?"

"I certainly hope not!" Emma said, returning his grin. "But then again, we are in Storybrooke. Not much would surprise me anymore!"

To the lass's obvious relief, "the juggling of the bouquet" merely consisted of holding the bride's bouquet while she was otherwise occupied within the ceremony. Belle and Ariel were singularly successful.

"It's as though you've been a maid of honor all your life!" Mary Margaret said, gushing after Belle's performance.

Unfortunately, when Tinkerbell's turn arrived, disaster struck. The fairy accomplished the first pass off with aplomb, but then came the second. There was a collective gasp within the diner as the colorful bouquet slipped through her fingers and fell with a crash onto the floor.

The wolf-girl was marginally more successful, but her performance was not without flaw. On the third pass off of the bouquet, Ruby bobbled it, and it was only with some fancy juggling of her hands, she kept the arrangement from dropping.

By general consensus, it was decided the second round of the bridesmaid games went to Belle.

"An all important part of a m-o-h's job is the toast," Ruby declared once the cheers had stopped. "The third task for the prospective maids of honor is simple. Give a two minute impromptu toast to Emma and Killian."

This ought to be interesting. Belle began.

"The Webster's dictionary defines love as…" The speech went on and on comprising, from the best Killian could determine, literary references from this realm. It was certainly par for the course for the librarian.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Of course you would quote the dictionary! Next time, if you can't find something interesting to say, don't say anything at all."

At which point, the Crocodile leapt to his feet. "Watch your tone, dearie! No one insults my wife! I'll curse you into oblivion."

Regina rolled her eyes again. "Save it, Gold," she said in a bored tone. "If anyone's going to be cursing people around here, it's me."

Tinkerbell's toast was rather ordinary, a paean to the glories of love. Ruby's toast was…well pure Ruby. Well versed in innuendo though he was, even Killian blushed at some of the suggestions and implications the wolf-girl gave.

"Please, tell me Ariel has something halfway decent to say!" Emma whispered, clinging to his arm.

"She can't help but be better than what we've already heard, love," Killian responded.

"I first met Killian and Emma in Neverland," Ariel began sweeping the entire diner with her gaze, "and from the first moment I saw them together, I knew they shared something special, something I'd rarely seen. The love I saw shining out of Killian's eyes every time he looked at Emma brought tears to my eyes. This was a man so devoted to the woman he loved, he would do anything for her. No sacrifice would be too great. And Emma too! Though she fought it with every fiber of her being, it was clear Killian's love was not unrequited. In quiet moments, moments when none were looking, the looks she gave him spoke of devotion, a devotion that ran deeper than she could have ever believed possible. And now here they are. The product of true love, the savior, has now found her true love. May you have many many years of love and joy and happiness! Please join me in raising your glasses to Killian and Emma!"

Emma surreptitiously swiped at her eyes. "It's kind of creepy how much that mermaid spied on us in Neverland," she said with a smile.

"Aye lass," Killian smiled back at her. "But as all she seems to have seen is how utterly and passionately we were falling in love with each other, I suppose we must forgive her."

It was certainly no surprise to anyone that Ariel won that round.

"Alright folks," Ruby piped up again, "we're down to the final event! You never know when your wedding might be crashed by an evil queen with an axe to grind."

"Oh for the love of God, that was  _one_ time!" Regina muttered. "And I had provocation. It was the  _un_ Charmings after all!"

"Now, Regina," Mary Margaret mollified, "I'm sure no one thinks you're going to do anything to disrupt Killian and Emma's wedding."

"Well, you never know!" Ruby said.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said. "I promise not to threaten the entire kingdom with a dark curse during Killian and Emma's wedding. Happy?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be an evil queen, anyway," Ruby said. "This is Storybrooke, after all. Who knows what villain may show up."

"I hate to admit it," Emma said, leaning toward Killian, "but she's right."

"The maid of honor needs to be prepared to handle any situation that arises. Now is the contestants' opportunity to show their stuff. How will you handle a villain crashing the wedding?"

Killian watched with amusement as Ruby ran forward and tackled the dummy set up to represent the new villain. Ariel tied up the villain with rope, and Belle, ran to the Crocodile for assistance. Tinkerbelle employed the most creative strategy. Using pixie dust, the fairy rose into the air and then sprinkled squid ink over the villain, effectively immobilizing him.

Tinkerbelle was named the victor of the fourth task.

"Well folks, it seems we have an interesting situation," Ruby announced once the fourth task was decided. "We have a  _four-way_  tie! I don't think we've ever seen something like this in the history of the bridesmaids games!"

"Considering no one in their right minds has ever before thought of playing the 'bridesmaids games'," Regina drawled, "that's not saying much."

"So," Ruby said as though there had been no interruption. "it looks like the ball's back in your court Emma. Who do  _you_  choose as your maid of honor?"

Killian looked down at Emma and squeezed her hand in support. Emma closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head.

"Killian," she whispered, "you're  _sure_  you're not up for elopement?"

"I'm afraid not, love," he grinned down at her. "We must proceed forward manfully."

"I thought you'd say that."

Emma took one more deep breath and then looked up. "This has been a very…um…interesting afternoon," she said aloud. Every eye in the diner was focused on her in rapt attention. "I'm not going to pretend I don't find the whole thing kind of weird, but, you know, I just realized something. Ruby really showed a lot of initiative in thinking up this whole elaborate game. That's what I need in a maid of honor, someone able to think on her feet no matter what crap is going on around her. So, provided you change every single word of your toast, Ruby, I'd love for you to be my maid of honor."

Ruby squealed and threw herself into Emma's arms.

"You won't regret this! This is going to be so much fun! I'll be the best m-o-h ever!"

And so, the last piece of the wedding planning puzzle was put in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Ruby's maid of honor wanna-be antics kind of were inspired by my sister's best friend. My sister is currently planning her wedding, and said best friend came up to her as soon as she found out she was engaged and squealed and said "I'll be the best m-o-h (maid of honor, obviously) ever!" And so, I had to have Ruby refer to the honorary title as m-o-h at least a couple of times.
> 
> -This story is winding down. Only two more chapters to go. I'm finding myself really enjoying writing Ruby. She's just a fun character. I really hope her schedule clears enough for her to make more appearances on the show in season 4!
> 
> -Up next: The Bachelorette party. Killian becomes concerned when Ruby, Emma's maid of honor, throws her a bachelorette party. Given Ruby's reputation, he doesn't know what might go down at that party. So he and Charming plan an elaborate plot to find out just what their ladies are up to...suffice it to say, things don't work out quite the way Killian and Charming planned.


	9. The Bachelorette Party

"Perhaps we were a mite hasty in executing our plan, mate," Killian said from his perch on the cot in the Storybrooke jail cell.

Charming stopped his pacing near the bars that held him prisoner and turned a jaundiced eye to Killian. "You think?" he asked sarcastically. "Why I ever agreed to this crazy plan of yours is beyond me, pirate!"

"Pirate, is it?" Killian said in frustration. "I seem to remember merely  _suggesting_  a plan of action. You, mate were the one who insisted we put it into practice."

Charming blew out a long breath. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter who's to blame. The real question is how long will it take Emma and Snow to forgive us and let us out?"

"I'm not as familiar with your lovely wife's disposition, Dave," Killian said wryly, " but I fear my Emma will leave me languishing in this brig until we've celebrated the tenth anniversary of our nuptials."

xoxoxoxoxoxox

_Earlier that day_

Killian swaggered into the sheriff's station, reveling in the absolute, complete  _happiness_  he felt. It was a beautiful June morning, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, he was in love and he would be marrying his true love in a mere three days. Life couldn't be better.

Emma was sitting at her desk, busily scribbling at something that apparently absorbed her full attention. Killian lazily leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, one boot crossed over the other. He just  _looked_  at her. She was so beautiful, so vibrant. Sometimes he still found it difficult to believe his good fortune. How had he managed to win this woman's heart?

"From the frown draping your lovely features, darling," Killian drawled, "I'd wager you're none too pleased with the object of that paperwork"

Emma jumped, and then brought her hand to her chest. "Killian! You scared the hell out of me!"

Killian strode forward, leaned down and kissed her soundly. "Hardly the effect I was going for, love."

Emma looked up at him in confusion. "Did I forget something? Was I supposed to meet you…or go somewhere with you…or..I don't know? This wedding's got me so crazy I can't even remember my own name."

"I can help you with that," Killian said with a teasing smile. "Your name is currently Emma Swan, but in a mere three days, it will be changed to Emma Jones."

"Only three days!" Emma said with a grin. "I am so excited, I can barely contain myself. Just think, Killian, all we have to do is survive three more days of insanity and then we'll  _never_  have to plan our wedding again as long as we live!"

He shook his head, pasting a wounded expression on his face. "Come now, Swan, you cut me to the heart! Here I've been pining for you for what seems like an eternity, and all you are excited about is the ceasing of wedding planning!"

A pleasing pink hue suffused her cheeks. "Maybe that's not  _all_  I'm excited about. Maybe I'm  _a little_  anxious to be your wife."

Killian leaned over and kissed her once again. Long, deep, passionate. When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard. "Just a small preview of things to come, love."

Emma dragged a hand through her blonde hair. "So you never answered my question," she said in a voice that was not  _quite_  steady. "What brings you to the sheriff's station..besides attempting to seduce me away from my work?"

"Does a man need a reason to call on the woman he loves?" Kilian asked with a lazy grin. She evidently found no reason to answer that question, so Killian continued. "As it happens, I've come to ask you to come away with me."

"Tempting as that sounds," Emma answered, "I'm stuck here at work for the next eight hours or so."

"Oh, I wasn't suggesting you neglect your duties, love," Killian said. "I merely wished to…what's the phrase used in this realm?...ask you on a date. I'd be honored if you would join me for dinner on the  _Jolly_  this evening. Your mother has monopolized far too much of your time over the past week. I do believe I saw more of you before we began courting than I do now."

"Killian, I'd love to," Emma said, "but I can't tonight. Ruby's throwing me a bachelorette party, and I can't exactly skip it."

"A bachelorette party?" Killian asked. "I'd wager that's another wedding tradition of this realm?"

"Yeah," Emma answered. "One last thing I need to do before all the wedding festivities really get started."

Killian sighed theatrically. "Well, then, I suppose I must resign myself to pining for yet another night. I will eat my lonely dinner alone and dream of our honeymoon."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Killian sat at the bar at Granny's and bit into the delectable creation Granny called a club sandwich. Whatever else might be said about those in this realm, they certainly knew the art of putting food items together to create a harmonious product. Out of the corner of his eye, Killian saw someone sit next to him. Turning, he found himself face to face with Dr. Whale.

Killian and Whale were on pleasant enough terms, but Killian had never had many dealings with the other man.

"Looks like we're both on our own tonight," the doctor commented.

"Aye, that it does," Killian answered. Whale had been courting the wolf-girl rather casually for some time.

"This was supposed to be date night," Whale continued, "but you know how Ruby is. She was bound and determined to give Emma a bachelorette party she would remember."

"That is kind of her," Killian said absently.

Whale shot him a sly look. "You seem to be taking it well," he said casually. "I'd have pegged you for the jealous type. Now me? I don't care if Ruby has her fun…just as long as she comes home to me in the end."

Killian froze, his bottle of beer halfway to his lips. Slowly, deliberately he lowered the beverage back to the counter and turned to face his companion. "Why precisely should I be jealous of a gathering of ladies?"

Whale laughed. "You've never heard of a bachelorette party before? Let me tell you; there's stuff that goes down in those kind of things that you wouldn't believe…and with Ruby planning it, well, it will be no holds barred."

"Suppose you enlighten me as to exactly what  _stuff_  occurs at a bachelorette party."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Charming!" Killian thundered as he took the steps to the flat two at a time. "Are you in?"

The door opened just as Killian raised his prosthetic hand to knock.

"What's up, Killian?" Charming asked, a look of alarm on his face. "Something wrong?"

"I'd say there is, mate!" Killian said, pacing the living room restlessly. "Have you any idea where our ladies are this evening?"

Charming's brow furrowed. "Um…yeah. They went to Emma's bachelorette party."

"And have you any idea what  _happens_  at bachelorette parties?"

"Well, I've never been to one myself, seeing as I've never been a bachelorette."

"I just had a very enlightening conversation with Dr. Whale, mate," Killian said stopping his pacing and fixed his blue gaze on his future father-in-law. "It would seem these parties can get rather racy. Whale mentioned celebrating one's last few days of freedom, copious amounts of alcohol, and…entertainment. According to Whale, it is not unheard of for ladies to hire handsome men to parade before them unclothed!"

Charming laughed. "Yeah, Dr. Whale runs with an entirely different crowd, that's for sure!"

Killian shot him an incredulous look. "This is your wife and daughter we're talking about, mate! You have no apprehension of them engaging in…that?"

Charming walked forward and clapped Killian on the shoulder. "Relax, Killian. I trust Snow, and I know Emma's unswervingly faithful to you. Don't worry. If I know my wife, if there's even the hint of something risqué about to take place, she'll shut it down."

"Are you daft?" Killian thundered. "Consider who is hosting the party! Ruby's middle name might as well be risqué! And though I trust my Emma implicitly…who knows what may transpire once enough spirits have been consumed."

Killian watched with satisfaction as an uneasy look crossed the prince's face. It was about time the man see the seriousness of the situation.

"Well, you do have a point about Ruby," Charming said slowly. "And, of course, Snow won't drink with the baby and everything, but likely everyone else will. Will Snow really be able to keep control?"

Killian nodded firmly. "You've seen the predicament at long last."

"Yeah," Charming said, beginning to pace himself. "I think maybe I have. So what precisely do you suggest we do about it?"

"Well mate," Killian said, "as I see it we need to observe what is actually happening at the party. Here's what I propose..."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Emma put in her favorite pair of small hoop earrings and then surveyed the finished product. The red dress looked good; she looked like she was ready for a night on the town. She only wished it was going to be with Killian rather than the ladies of the town. Not that she disliked spending time with them; they were rapidly becoming the best friends she'd ever had in her life—not that that was saying much considering the life she'd led. It was just..well, who knows what Ruby might have up her sleeve for tonight. Things could get  _really_  awkward really fast.

"You about ready, Emma?" Mary Margaret called up the stairs.

"Just a second, Mary Margaret," Emma called down. She put the finishing touches on her hair and then joined her mother at the flat door.

"You look nice, Emma," Mary Margaret mentioned, looking her over critically, "but your expression! You look like we're going to your execution, not your party!"

They stepped out the door and Mary Margaret turned back to lock the door.

"It's nice of Ruby to throw me a bachelorette party and everything," Emma said carefully, "but…I mean it's Ruby. Who knows what we're about to walk into."

"Don't worry, Emma," Mary Margaret said, patting her on the arm, "I've already talked to Ruby. She's promised to keep tonight's events tame."

The pair walked out of the apartment building and down the street. "No offense, Mary Margaret," Emma said skeptically, "but I'm pretty sure your definition of 'tame' is about one hundred eighty degrees off from Ruby's."

"I already thought of that," Mary Margaret said. "That's why I insisted in being involved in the planning stages. Like I said; don't worry. This'll be no more embarrassing than your average, run-of-the-mill bridal shower!"

If only that would have proven to be true!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Killian, what do you see?" Charming asked in an insistent whisper.

"Not bloody much," Killian responded, repositioning his spyglass to his eye. The pair stood in the shadows across the street from Granny's. It was the perfect night for espionage. There was no moon and the night was black as pitch. Killian glanced through the glass again. "They appear to be merely talking."

"Here, let me see," Charming said taking the glass from Killian's hand. "Wait! They're leaving! They're going into the parlor!"

"What?" Killian hissed. "How the bloody hell are we to keep track of their movements if they're no longer in our line of sight?"

Charming shot him an exasperated look. "Why are you asking me? You're the pirate. Keeping an eye on a room full of high spirited ladies should be a piece of cake for you!"

Killian thought for a moment. A small, rational part of his brain shouted at him to give up the venture. After all, any further movement on their part was sure to be deadly dangerous. Besides that, he had a sneaking suspicion the lass would be less than pleased were she to know his current occupation. But, as usual the rash, impetuous portion of his brain won out.

"We must find a way to infiltrate," Killian said.

"Are you crazy?" Charming whispered loudly. "What are we going to do? Walk in the door and say 'Hi. We were just wondering if you ladies were entertaining male strippers'. How well do you think  _that_  would go over?"

Killian rolled his eyes. "Have you no faith at all in me? As you've said yourself, I am the pirate!"

"Okay," Charming said, "so what's your brilliant pirate plan?"

"Clearly using either of the doors is out," Killian said, "the women would hear us immediately."

"So, if we don't use the doors, how do we get in?"

Killian pointed to a window on the second floor. "Do you see that vine that climbs the building? It is easily strong enough to bear your weight and mine as well. I propose we climb the vine, sneak in through yonder window, and make our way to the utility room situated directly above the parlor."

"What good will that do us?"

Killian shook his head derisively. "Must I explain  _everything_ to you? The air vents are quite porous in the floor. From our perch in the utility room, we will be well able to see and hear everything that is happening at the party. From that respect, it will be a far superior set up to our original plan where we merely  _saw_  the lasses through the spyglass."

Charming looked skeptical. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Have you a better one?"

As it seemed he did not, they put Killian's plan into action. The first phase went swimmingly. With minimal effort Killian and Charming managed to gain entrance to the bed and breakfast. As luck would have it, the window they entered happened to be attached to an unoccupied room. They made their way with extreme stealth to the utility room and dropped to the ground.

"You see anything?" Charming whispered.

Killian felt the tiles give beneath his weight as he peered through the vent. "They appear to be presenting Emma with gifts."

"What kind of gifts?"

"We thought you might need some help packing for your honeymoon," Ruby's voice carried from below. "Here are a few things that both you  _and_  Killian can enjoy!"

"Oh…I like that!" Killian said with an appreciative chuckle as he watched Emma pull a tiny scarlet negligee from the bag. "I like that indeed."

"What?" Charming asked. "What do you like?"

Killian shot him a wicked grin. "Have a look for yourself."

"Ugh!" Charming said after a moment. I do not need to have those images in my mind!"

"What exactly is the point of this little number?" Killian heard Emma say laughingly. "I might as well just be naked."

"I'm sure Killian wouldn't complain either way!" Ruby said cheekily.

"Budge up, mate!" Killian said, elbowing Charming.

"Not a chance, 'mate'," Charming replied. "You have no business seeing that either on or off my daughter until you're married."  
"Oh come off it Dave!" Killian said shoving again. "You are aware I've seen women's undergarments before?"

Charming shoved back, but not before Killian got a glimpse of the current item Emma was holding up. Tiny enough to cover virtually nothing and as see-through as glass. Aye he could appreciate this!

"Look," Charming said in a loud whisper, "we've seen what we need to see. There's nothing going on here we need to be worried about. Let's go before they find out what we've done!"

"Not a chance!" Killian said. "In for a penny; in for a pound. We took the trouble to secure access to this establishment; I say we take advantage of it!"

"Let's go, pirate!" Charming demanded, pulling at Killian's arm. A scuffle ensued. The sagging floor tile sagged more and more…and finally gave way altogether. A moment later Charming and Killian found themselves sitting among the rubble of the utility room floor, face to face with a room full of women who were definitely  _not_  amused.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Next time you have a brilliant idea, remind me to run," Charming said, pacing the jail cell.

After Emma had gotten over her shock, she'd marched over to the two of them, pulled out two sets of handcuffs and perp-marched them both to the jail. She hadn't said a word as she locked them in, but her face left no doubt that eventually she would be saying quite a lot. Still refusing to speak, the lass had walked back out of the sheriff station and had yet to return two hours later.

The door opened and Emma stepped forward, furious scowl still draping her face. Killian hastily got to his feet and rushed to the cell door.

"Emma, love, I…"

"Save it, Hook!" she shouted.

"As you wish." The lass was bloody furious. Emma stepped up to the jail cell and fumbled with her keys. Killian surged forward. She fixed him with a glare that surely had the power to kill, and he hastily stepped back.

"You, get back!" she hissed pointing a finger in his direction. Then she turned toward Charming. "You, come out!"

Charming meekly obeyed. He started apologizing as soon as he'd exited the cell.

"I'm sorry, Emma, we just got carried away." She merely raised a hand. "Mary Margaret wants to deal with you at home."

Charming grimaced. Killian couldn't blame the man. The princess was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry.

"Well, I guess I better go home and face the music," Charming finally said ruefully as he stepped from the station.

Killian watched his mate until he was out of sight and then turned to his own beautiful force to be reckoned with. She was glaring at him, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.

"You look lovely lass," he said, affecting a cocky air, "Positively radiant. Is that a new dress?"  
"Oh no you don't!" she said, shaking her head slowly, "Not gonna work, buddy. You're not charming your way out of this one!"

He sighed and sat back on the cot. "I thought not, but you cannot blame a man for trying."

"What the  _hell_  were you and David doing in that utility room?"

"Behaving as absolute and unmitigated asses."

She snorted, the amused sound giving him hope. "Well, at least you admit it. Aside from being asses, what brought you to that room?"

"Ingenuity and physical prowess."

The glare she shot him could have curdled milk.

"Oh very well, love," he said on a sigh. "After a conversation with Dr. Whale, I became concerned about just what these 'bachelorette parties' entailed. Some of his conjectures—particularly related to male entertainment Ruby might hire—had me more than a little concerned. Your father and I were…merely trying to ensure you weren't subjected to…anything unsavory."

She merely  _looked_ at him. And then she was seated beside him on the cot. Her hands came up and cradled his face, bringing it down to hers. This kiss was pure passion and need. The lass was ravenous. Almost unconsciously, his hand came up and cradled the back of her head, the silky feel of her hair and the heat of her lips driving him slowly mad.

She opened her mouth above his, her moan urging him to do the same. He obeyed with alacrity, eager to let her in, eager to join her.

Her hands dropped from his face and settled within the open vee of his shirt, her fingers tangling in his chest hair.

"Emma!" he moaned, wrenching his mouth from hers, unable to stop himself from pressing burning kisses down her jaw, behind her ear, into the nape of her neck. He had to stop this! He had to pull back or he would have his way with her right here on the jail cell cot.

She pushed him, and he hastily moved away. She was breathing hard, her eyes still slightly unfocussed. He saw a slight trimmer in her hands. Whatever she'd intended, it was clear the kiss had  _not_  left her unaffected. It left him with a fierce feeling of satisfaction.

"You, Killian Jones, are an idiot," she said in a slightly husky voice.

"Aye, lass, that I am." He would have probably agreed to anything the lass said after the kiss she'd just given him.

A grin flitted across her face. " _You_  are the only man I want to kiss like that…or do anything else that might one day logically follow from a kiss like that.  _You_  are the man I choose for the rest of my life."

"Oh, Emma, love…" he said, reaching for her once more.

She evaded his grasp, raising her hand in a gesture to stop him "But you behave like you did today again—you know, like a paranoid, jealous fool—and you better just savor the memory of that last kiss, because it'll be a long time till you get another."

A sheepish grin settled on his lips. "I'm sorry, Swan," he said simply. "I  _am_  a fool. I'll not let my impetuous nature get the better of me again. Am I forgiven?"

She leaned forward and pecked him once more on the lips.

"Yeah. I guess so," she said taking his hand and leading him from the cell, "but now you really have to face the music. Granny's establishment sustained a good deal of damage, and she's angry enough to spit nails."

"Ouch," he said with a wince, "perhaps I'd best remain locked in the brig."

She laughed, pulling him on. "Baby."

"Guilty as charged," he good-naturedly agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The part of the bachelorette party where the ladies gave Emma sexy lingere was inspired by real life (well, without the fiancé and the bride's father literally crashing the party). My best friend's future sister in law threw her a party where we were all to bring such items as gifts. It seemed a little weird to me. I would not want to watch one of my sisters-in-law receive such items knowing that she would be…um…enjoying them with my brother. Ew!
> 
> -One chapter to go! Next up: The Rehearsal Dinner. It's the night before the wedding, and Killian has a few rather sweet ideas about how to honor his bride-to-be.


	10. The Rehearsal Dinner

The bell rang as Killian stepped into Granny's. He scanned the diner and found her in her usual booth, a cold beverage in hand. Killian nervously adjusted his prosthetic hand, asking himself for the hundredth time what had possessed him to request a lunch meeting with Swan's mother.

"Your Majesty," he said bowing formally when he reached the table.

"Killian, she said with a smile, "That's a bit formal, don't you think, considering we'll be family in two days."

Killian slid into his side of the booth and signaled to the wolf-girl that he wished to order.

"Well," he said with a grin, "I don't wish to be presumptuous. After all, we didn't start on the best footing."

Snow laughed again and took a sip of her water. "That's an understatement! Not surprising, though, considering you were actively trying to deceive my daughter and me while working for one of the nastiest witches around."

"Aye, that's true," Killian agreed with a chagrinned grimace, "Cora was indeed quite the piece of work. But if it's any consolation, I had no allegiance to the woman. I was just mercenary enough to align myself with anyone who could further my goal of seeking vengeance on the Crocodile. I was quite sincere in assuring Emma I would have far preferred making an alliance with you."

Snow looked at him reflectively, and he patiently bore her scrutiny. "If you don't mind me asking," she said slowly, "what exactly happened on that beanstalk. Emma was…different when she came back.

Killian smiled as he remembered the first adventure he'd gone through with the woman he loved more than life itself. "We discovered, much to our mutual surprise, I think, that we make quite the team."  
"Yeah," she said. "You do, though it took me a long time to admit it.":

"You wished the best for your daughter, My Lady," Killian said with a self-deprecating little shrug, "and I was, after all, a pirate."

"You know, Killian," Snow said slowly, "I think you're selling yourself short. You've always been more than just a pirate, although it took some of us longer than others to realize it."

"Thank you, My Lady," Killian said, feeling a warm surge of pleasure wash over him at the princess's praise.

Snow took a large bite of her hamburger and grinned. "You're welcome," she said after she'd swallowed, "but 'My Lady' is still way too formal. Why don't you call me Snow or Mary Margaret?"  
H smiled. "How about we split the difference? I'll call you 'Lady Snow'."

She reached a slender hand across the table and clasped his. "Deal," she said.

They ate in silence for several minutes. Snow consumed her hamburger and fries in record time. Before Killian had finished half of his sandwich, she'd ordered a second serving of fries and a large milk shake.

"This baby's making me ravenous!" she said between bites. "At the rate I'm going, I'm going to be as big as a house by the time he's born!"

Killian grinned mischievously. "I'm fairly certain, Lady Snow, that it would be in my best interest not to comment upon that."

She swatted his arm and he laughed. It surprised him; he was actually having a good time with Swan's mother. He and her father had formed a fast friendship, but it had never been so with Snow White. She'd never afforded him more than a grudging tolerance when it became apparent that his relationship with Emma was to be permanent.

"I'm glad you asked to meet me today, Killian," she said once she'd sobered.

"Aye?" he asked curiously. "For what reason, if I might ask?"

"I wanted to thank you for all you've done for Emma."

He felt the embarrassment creep up his neck. Ducking his head, he began scratching behind his ear. It had never been easy to receive praise or thanks; it was so much easier to be written off as a filthy pirate."

"It wasn't so much," he mumbled. "She's done far more for me."

"That might be," Snow insisted, "but it doesn't take away from what you've done for her. You've brought her the kind of love and happiness I've been wanting for my daughter from the moment I knew I was carrying her."

"I can promise you," Killian said earnestly, "that she will never want for my love, and I will do all in my power to ensure her happiness."

She laid her hand upon his good one. "I know. When I see you looking at her, I see the same expression my husband wears when looking at me. True love never fades."

"Nay, it does not."

"So, Killian," Snow said after a moment. "Why  _did_  you invite me to lunch with you today?"

Killian took another bite of his sandwich, chewed thoroughly, and swallowed before answering. "As it happens, I wished to thank you as well."

Surprise entered her eyes. "What for?"

"You've worked tirelessly on this wedding," he said, "and I'm truly thankful for your thoughtfulness, as is Emma."

"Really?" Snow asked. "Emma seems to hate all the fuss and ceremony. I thought I was just annoying her."

Killian laughed. "Aye, she has little patience for the pomp and circumstance," he conceded, "but she's craved a mother's love all her life. I can tell you with absolute certainty that the fact that her mother is going to such lengths to make her wedding beautiful, touches her deeply. She appreciates you more than she can probably ever tell you."

Tears pooled in the princess's brown eyes, and she resolutely blinked them away. "Thank you for telling me that," she said in a slightly thick voice. "I never know how well I'm succeeding at the whole mom thing."

Killian smiled gently. "Just love her, and you can't help but succeed."

They sat in silence for several moments merely sipping at their nearly empty drinks. Finally Snow spoke again. "So that was it? You just wanted to thank me?"

"Not entirely," he conceded. "You have done wonders with the wedding preparations, but I wondered if I might be permitted to add to the festivities following the wedding rehearsal."

"Sure," Snow said with surprise. "What did you have in mind?"

"There is an ancient custom in my land," Killian said, "called the presentation of the dowry."

"The presentation of the dowry?" Snow said with a raised eyebrow. Emma had given him that very look on multiple occasions…whenever she felt he was acting as a complete fool. "You want David and me to give you a _dowry_  for marrying Emma?"

"No!" Killian said quickly. "Certainly not! Emma is more than treasure enough for me. What I was speaking of was the second part of the dowry ceremony. It's customary once the bride's family has presented the groom with the dowry, for the groom to present the bride with gifts of his own. It shows his love and gratitude for her."

"And you want to follow that tradition?" Her voice had become soft and gentle.

"Aye," Killian said. "I will never repay Emma for the gifts she gives me every day, but maybe in this way, I can show her a small measure of my devotion and thankfulness for her."

"Killian," she said with a smile, "I think the dowry ceremony sounds like a perfect addition to the rehearsal dinner."

"Alright people! Dinner's over!" Grumpy said with a scowl. "Big day tomorrow; time to get your beauty sleep. Some of you desperately need it!"

Emma rolled her eyes from where she sat with Killian at the "head table" at Granny's diner. She leaned over to her fiancé. "Is it just me, or are we getting bossed around way too much at  _our_  rehearsal dinner?"

He grinned down at her. "Relax, love. One more day, and then we've run the entire wedding gamut. We must manfully endeavor to allow the cantankerous dwarf his moment of glory, and then our reward will be heaven itself."

"Remind me again who it was who thought it was a brilliant idea to have  _Leroy_  as our wedding coordinator."

"That would be your mother, lass," he said with a smirk. "Given the wedding is at the convent, she thought it would give Grumpy an opportunity to rendezvous with the lovely Nova."

Emma rolled her eyes again. "I should have known! My mother and her matchmaking!"

The day had been interesting, to say the least. Grumpy had peppered the entire wedding rehearsal with a steady stream of surliness.

"Come on sister! Get down the aisle while we're all still young!"

("Technically speaking," Killian whispered once she did get down the aisle, "I'm more than three hundred years old, so perhaps 'young' doesn't apply.")

"Ruby! There's no flirting on the way down the aisle!"

"Snow! For the love of the Dark One's sparkly golden face paint! Get ahold of yourself! This is the  _rehearsal_! There's no crying in the rehearsal!"

"Marco, this is a marriage not a funeral! Can you at least  _try_  to play the Bridal Chorus with a little more…I don't know… _life_?"

"Granny, put down the knitting! There's no knitting during a wedding!"

("Charming Junior's baby afghan isn't going to knit itself," Granny said irritably, earning her a glare potent enough to kill).

"Regina! This is a  _happy_  occasion! Wipe that scowl off your face before I come over there and wipe it off for you!"

("Oh yeah?" she snarled, "try it and I'll find a nasty curse with your name on it  _dwarf_!)

"Hook! Stop screwing around! This is no time to kiss your fiancée like that! Save it for the wedding night."

(Never one to follow directions, Killian had merely grinned wickedly and proceeded to kiss her again, about ten times more passionately than before).

Somehow, Emma wasn't sure she'd ever know how, they'd made it through the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner.

"Well, I guess we'd better follow Mr. Surly's directions, then," Emma said, preparing to stand. Killian stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

"A moment more, if you don't mind," he said loudly. Those who had already gotten up and begun moving toward the door stopped and turned back to the man of the hour.

Grumpy glared.

"Your pardon, Leroy. I apologize for the interruption," Killian said, sounding anything but repentant, "but there is one more item on tonight's agenda."

 _There is_?

"Uh, no!" Grumpy said, scowling, "as the wedding coordinator, I have the agenda and every item's been checked off."

"It's okay, Leroy," Snow said, placing a hand on his arm, "Killian talked to me. This is all part of the plan."

Emma looked up at Killian, more than a few questions in her eyes. He smiled down at her tenderly, the skin around his eyes crinkling. Reaching down, he lightly squeezed her shoulder.

"Fine!" Grumpy growled, crossing his arms and plopping into a booth in the corner, "I've just been working my  _ass_  off trying to make this wedding perfect. What do I care if you change the agenda at literally the last minute?" He went on to mutter something about  _pirates_.

"I'm pleased to find you so accommodating," Killian said, tongue affixed firmly in cheek. Emma laughed; she couldn't help it. Then she caught Leroy's glare. He looked like he would relish murdering her, slowly. Probably the only thing keeping her alive was the fact that weddings don't tend to go too well when the bride's dead.

"To begin," Killian said smoothly, "I'd like to thank the Lady Snow and Leroy for all the work they've attended to to make this wedding the kind of splendid event my Emma so desperately deserves."

There was a smattering of applause as Storybrooke residents returned to their seats, curious as to what Killian planned.

"I, however, have one item that I would like to contribute to the festivities," Killian continued. "There is a custom in my land that on the night before the nuptials, the groom presents his bride with a gift signifying his love, commitment and thankfulness that she has consented to accept his hand. I wished to continue that tradition."

He looked down at her, and the adoration in his blue eyes warmed her to the very soul.

"But I quickly found myself unfit for the task," he said, eyes still fixed on her. "Try as I might, I found myself utterly unable to fix upon a gift that even came close to expressing my love for you, Emma. You've given me the greatest gift a man could ever receive, your love, your friendship, your acceptance. You turned me from a bitter, angry man fixed on vengeance into the man of honor I was all those years ago. You make me want to be a better man."

Emma felt the tears pool in her eyes. He was doing it again—being all eloquent and romantic—and it was going to make her ball like a baby. She hated it when he did this to her!  _Oh, who was she kidding? She_ loved _it when he got romantic!_

"So, I've chosen to modify the ritual," he continued. "Rather than one grandiose gift, I've chosen to procure several momentos of the time we've spent together."

Killian broke eye contact and dug into his satchel, rummaging around until he was holding something small and round.

"The first moment I saw Emma Swan, I knew I was in trouble. She was a beautiful avenging angel 'rescuing' me from the rubble under which I was buried. My heart raced in a way it hadn't since I was a youth fancying my first lass."

"And then I put a knife to your throat and reality came crashing back in", Emma said with a smirk.

"Aye," Killian grinned, "But I couldn't for the life of me understand why I didn't take you down right then and there."

"You could have tried," Emma taunted.

"But," Killian continued as if Emma hadn't spoken, "it wasn't until we climbed that bloody beanstalk together that I knew that spark I felt toward you was something beyond anything I'd ever experienced. And so, Emma, my first gift to you is the giant's magic compass. Had I but known it then, the compass points me true north…right to you."

Killian set the golden instrument on the table before her, and she touched it slowly, almost reverently. Killian turned away and reached back in the satchel. He withdrew a necklace. Emma looked at it closely and noticed its pendant was an exact replica of a magic bean.

"After the beanstalk adventure, love" Killian continued, walking behind her to place the necklace around her neck.  _How he managed to work the clasp with only one hand, I'll never know!_  "We were at odds for many weeks. We were enemies, though it was a position in which I never wanted to be. I shoved down my attraction, my dawning love for you because I loved my vengeance more. And then you did something that turned my entire world on its side."

"What was that?" Emma asked, caressing the smooth porcelain of her new pendant.

"You believed in me," he said softly. "When all the world of Storybrooke was crashing down around us, when the bloody failsafe was about to detonate, you offered me the chance to be a part of something—to join you for a higher purpose."

"And, as I recall," Emma said, smiling to take the sting from her words, "you still used some slight of hand and stole the bean."

"Aye," he said with a grimace, "I was a right nasty git."

"You'll get no argument from me, dearie," Rumple spoke from his table near the door. Belle shot him a reproving look.

"Emma," Hook said, turning back to her after shooting Rumple an exasperated glare. Those two would never be friends; that was clear. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't sail away from you, sentencing you to what I believed was your death. I had to come back—and it was the best decision I ever made."

Killian turned back to his bag and came back with a small, plastic replica of a palm tree. Emma laughed; she couldn't help it. It was so  _cheap_  and ridiculous!

"And what exactly is  _that_  supposed to be?" Regina asked sarcastically.

"A palm tree, of course," Killian said, presenting the item to Emma with a flourish worthy of the Dark One himself, "to commemorate our adventures on Neverland. It was a place of darkness and danger, but to me, it was a beacon of light."

"How so?" David asked from his place at the next table. Killian looked around in surprise, as though he'd forgotten anyone else was in the room.

"Not sure you want to hear this part, Dave," he said with a wicked grin. "It involves your daughter and kissing.  _Passionate_  kissing."

The look on Charming's face was priceless. It was as though he couldn't decide whether to chuckle or scowl.

"Well, just try to spare us the gory details," Charming said.

"Yeah, Killian," Henry said with a grin. "We did just eat, after all."

Killian turned toward Emma and winked, the gesture forcing so much heat into her cheeks she hoped the fire extinguisher was nearby. "Aye," he said with his old pirate swagger, "perhaps the 'gory' details had best be kept between your lovely daughter and myself."

His face became serious, his eyes boring into hers. "That kiss, that astounding kiss was for me the moment of truth. I knew as soon as your lips touched mine that I loved you with a love so pure, so true, that there would never be another woman for me but you. I'd spent three hundred years trying to bury my pain in rum and willing women, but suddenly the only person in the world, the only remedy for my loneliness was  _you_."

The tears were back, threatening to spill over. Overcome with emotion, Emma reached for his hand. Threading her fingers with his, she brought his hand to her lips and showed him as best she could what his words meant to her.

Emma didn't realize how long they stayed there, staring into each other's eyes until Grumpy cleared his throat. "Well, that was….kind of sickening, but if you're finished, let's break this party up!"

Killian gently disentangled his fingers from hers and held his hand up. "Just a few more minutes, Leroy," he said. "I've but three gifts left to present."

Grumpy threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes. "Why not? My perfect schedules already blown all to hell anyway."

"Leroy!" Snow chided.

"Well, it is, sister," he grumbled, shooting her a sideways look.

"I shall be quick," Killian assured. "I'd hate to be accused of causing a dwarf to suffer apoplexy due to the destruction of his 'schedule'."

Emma saw the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Life with this man would certainly never be dull.

Turning back to his satchel once more, Killian drew out a small model of a knight in full chainmail armor.

"Following our successful return from Neverland," Killian said, "and a torturous year of separation, my lass and I were thrust into yet another adventure that led us from the Enchanted Forest to Camelot and back. Emma, love, my love for you grew by leaps and bounds as we worked together to defeat Morgana Le Fay and the Wicked Witch of the West."

"They were certainly first class bitches," Emma agreed.

"Indeed," Killian said with a grin, "but with you by my side, with a prophecy stating that our true love would win the victory, there wasn't a person in any realm I would have envied."

Emma grinned. "Aside from the evil villainesses, the arrow wound that nearly took my life, the fact that Morgana made you convince me you had no feelings for me, evil flying monkeys and my family's lives on the line, it was really the perfect little vacation."

His grin was pure mischief. "Indeed it was, lass."

"Mom," Henry whined, "you  _still_ haven't told me that whole story, and it didn't even end up in the book!"

"Patience lad," Killian said, grinning at him. "It's a harrowing tale I'll spin for you in due time. For now, I'm busy sweeping your mother off her feet with my debonair, romantic charm."

Emma swatted at his arm, but couldn't contain the giggle that broke free.

"Emma, love," Killian said, sobering once more, "it was on that adventure you first told me you loved me. The words were the sweetest sound I'd ever heard—particularly coming from lips that only moments before I'd feared would never speak again. But it was more than your love you gave me. You gave me back my father. Was it not for our adventures in Camelot, I would have never learned that my father never left me willingly, but was stolen and imprisoned by Morgana. I feel as though you've given me back my life."

Turning aside once more, Killian drew forth a perfect miniature replica of the  _Jolly Roger_. "And now I present to you my ship," he said, placing the vessel in her hands. "The  _Jolly_  has been my home and my family for low these many centuries. She stood beside me when no one else would. I have priceless memories of Liam and Milah, and even young Bae upon her deck. But I tell you right now, Emma, I would trade her away in a heartbeat if it meant coming to your aid.  _You_ are my home now.  _You_ are my whole world. There is no sacrifice I wouldn't make for you."

Emma stopped fighting the battle and let the tears spill down her cheeks. Killian reached out a gentle hand and swiped at her tears. His face was infinitely tender. She saw it in her eyes. She was the most precious thing in the world to him. She hoped he could see the same reality shining out of her own eyes.

"Killian, that was beautiful," Snow gushed softly.

"Thank you, my lady," Killian said with a bow. "But lest I'm hauled from the premises bodily by a certain ill-tempered dwarf, I'd best speed this along."

Emma laughed.

"I've one last gift to give you, love," Killian said gently withdrawing a heart from his satchel…not a  _real_  heart thankfully. You never knew in this town!

"I contemplated having Regina rip out my own heart," he said, teasing glint in his eyes, "but I gathered that would be altogether too dramatic."

"Yeah," Emma said, "not to mention gross!"

"Just so," he nodded. "None the less, this symbolizes a far greater reality. Emma, my love, you are now, and ever shall be the possessor of my heart. It is wholly yours. Never will it stray. Never will you have cause to doubt me. I will stay with you forever regardless of what fate…or fairytale villains throw our way. I will love you to the last beat of this organ, and long, long beyond."

It was nearing midnight when Emma made her way down the docks and onto the  _Jolly Roger_. She looked stealthily from side to side, checking to make absolute sure no one was observing her. She grinned to herself as she made her way below decks. She suddenly felt like a teenager breaking curfew. If her parents or Grumpy knew she was here….they'd kill her. Her mother, because it was extremely bad luck for the bride to see the groom after the rehearsal dinner. Her father, because…well, she was making her way to the pirate's  _bedroom_  in the middle of the night. And Grumpy, because…she was missing out on her beauty sleep.

Emma rolled her eyes as she knocked on the door to the captain's quarters. Sometimes it was easier when she was on her own! Not often, but sometimes.

"Aye?" came the muffled voice from the other side of the door.

Emma opened the door and slipped inside. Killian sat in his chair, his boots crossed on the desk, a book lying open in his lap.

"Swan!" he said, abruptly getting to his feet and letting the book crash unceremoniously to the floor. "Is something the matter?"

She rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him. "No," she said, burying her face in the soft hair covering his chest, "I just needed to see you, that's all."

She felt his chin rub against the top of her hair. "We've nearly made it, love. This time tomorrow night we'll be man and wife."

"Yeah," she said, smiling into his chest, "and then we can try out some…activities…that might give my father a heart attack."

She felt the deep rumble of his appreciative laugh. "That is something I've been waiting for since the moment my eyes first met yours in the Enchanted Forest."

She laughed again, and then stilled, looking up at him. "Killian, I wanted to thank you."

"What for, lass?"

"For being my rock, my unfailing support ever since you came back for us with that bean that took us to Neverland. I never could have survived Neverland or Camelot or the Enchanted Forest without you."

"It was the right thing to do, Swan," he said simply. He didn't like praise; she'd learned that about him early on.

"Yeah, but there are lots of people who wouldn't have done it."

"They would for the woman they love more than life."

She smiled and cradled his face in her hands. She brought it down for a slow, sweet kiss. When they pulled away, she rested her forehead against his. She doubted she would ever tire of kissing this man.

"Killian, those gifts today," she said, uncomfortably, "those things you said. Thank you. They mean a lot."

"It was my pleasure, love," he said, running a hand through her wavy hair. It was the most relaxing sensation she'd ever felt.

"I'm not, you know, good with words and stuff like you are," she stuttered out, "but I wanted to let you know…well…how I feel too."

His smile turned, if possible, even gentler. "No need lass," he said. "Open book, remember? I know how you feel for me."

She smiled back letting her thumb caress his lower lip. "I know, but..I still want to say it."

"I'm all ears," he said, catching her hand and placing a burning kiss on her palm.

"Killian, you say I saved you, that I made you a better person, but I want you to know that it goes both ways. You tore down my walls and healed the wounded little girl that hid inside. You showed me that I do matter to someone, that I am worthy of love. You brought a rainbow of color into my gray world. And I love you more than I will ever be able to tell you or show you."

He pecked her softly on the lips. "You'll have a lifetime to try, lass."

"Yeah."

The kiss this time was long and tinged with passion and need. She wished she could stay with him, here in his arms tonight. Reluctantly she pulled back a fraction of an inch. "I should go," she whispered finally, "if my mother finds out I was here…well the consequences could be too terrible to mention."

"Aye," he grinned, "and I'd hate to face the wrath of Grumpy."

With one last, lingering kiss goodnight, Emma walked up the steps, onto the docks and over to her waiting bug. One more night. She needed to wait only one more night, and then she would finally get to "I do."

The End!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -And as the last night before the wedding draws to a close, so does this story! Basically this chapter was just one last opportunity for Killian to get disgustingly romantic. I wanted to incorporate some sort of real 18th century (the century I'd place Killian if he were from our world) wedding customs into this chapter, but, alas, I didn't come across anything exciting. So, the wedding custom Killian brought in from his own land was entirely of my own devising.

**Author's Note:**

> \--This story came about because I'm convinced the whole town will want to plan/organize/take over Emma and Killian's wedding (and I'm also fully convinced that Emma will want nothing to do with it!)


End file.
